


A Court of Flowers

by DavidtheAthenai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, F/M, Growth, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 74,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DavidtheAthenai/pseuds/DavidtheAthenai
Summary: I could speak for hours about my rotten luck, about how many times I've been close to death. But luck is relative and some would say I am, in fact, extremely lucky. I would have disrespectfully disagreed. That was before I met fair Miss Delacour thought; well even for a bit after I met her if I am honest. Follow me trough a year of adventure and discovery, in more than one way.





	1. The French Are Strange

_ **Chapter 1** _

_ **The French Are Strange** _

* * *

The cold wind played around with the robes of the people around me as we waited, herded together as much for warmth as for the professors, standing in a semicircle behind us in silent instruction. It really was a cold night. The moon shined bright, illuminating the grounds with its shimmering silver, revealing a whole bunch of nothing as interesting as the foreign students we had been promised. And it had been like that for a good while now.

At one point I had taken to counting the freckles of a girl that was a couple meters from me, but she started speaking to her friend with such vehemence that I gave it up as a lost cause after having to start from scratch the third time. Ron had complained a few times about the wait, claiming inhumane treatment at having to wait for so long before the feast, a sentiment that had been echoed by a not insignificant amount of students before Hermione put an authoritarian stop to his tirade.

"Look there!"

The shout of a first year a couple rows ahead woke me from the stupor waiting outside in the cold while wrapped in a warm robe had induced in me. After forty minutes of waiting, the excitement that had been brewing steadily through the whole year, and today in particular, had waned considerably. Most people had stopped looking around expectantly and switched to chatter idly, a steady hum filling the empty night.

The kid that had shouted was pointing to something in the lake's direction. The clear face of the lake rippled and bubbled, the mirror moon waving like a white veil, a white shadow growing around it until the moon looked like a brighter speck on the undulating sheet of grey. Something was emerging from the formerly still lake.

The water clung to the emerging object not wanting to relinquish its hold on it, obscuring it from view under a shifting, translucent film. The silhouette of a ship was visible behind the shimmering veil, slowly but surely growing into a fully distinguishable shape in a macabre reversion of a sinking galleon

With the sound of a thunderclap the curtain of water ripped revealing an enormous sail ship enmarked in the wake of its defeated precipitation, its square, white sails glowing in comparison to its surroundings. An impossibly long plank extended from where the ship lay now anchored at least a hundred meters until it reached the shore, and flickering, bulking shapes floated over it and towards us, a frigid and unnatural waft heralding them.

My skin broke into goosebumps and the warm, friendly air that had permeated the packed multitudes evaporated in the wake of the display. I was left with the feeling that I had watched the raising of a corpse. Judging by the uneasy shifting and mutterings around me, I was not alone in the feeling.

"What the sod was that?" Exhaled Ron.

I shook my head, as much in answer as to try and silhouettes of the delegates of the ship's school were now close enough to be detailed. Most of their apparent bulk was a result of the heavy furs they wore, though they were, in general, quite tall. Not that it was an outrageous feat when I was the one making the observation.

The headmaster, or so I assumed, approached Dumbledore and shook his hand, smiling in a way that would have been charming had it not been for his yellowed teeth.

"It's been a long time headmaster," He looked at the castle and then at the group of students huddled by the doors, "Hogwarts has changed as much as you have, eh?"

"I hope the same is not true of you, Igor," Said Dumbledore in his most amicable tone, his eyes shining with a kind smile, somehow making the newly named Igor stiffen, "change is the core of betterment after all."

Dumbledore put a hand in his shoulder and turned towards the castle's door, "You better get your students inside, Igor, it may be warmer here than at Durmstrang, but that's not saying much. And I can see some of your students are faring the worse for it."

Indeed, one of the figures closest to Durmstrang's headmaster was hunched under his furs, face red, sniffing constantly, and generally looking quite miserable.

"Merlin's sagging left ball! That's Victor Krum!" His former spooked mood forgotten, Ron straightened and eyed Krum as he did his plate of sausages in the morning, which was not an image I wanted in my brain.

"He's just a quidditch player, Ronald," Hermione's dulcet tones cut through his enraptured gaze.

"Just a quidd-"

"He is certainly less graceful on the ground, he looks about to trip and fall" I cut his angry tirade not bothering to look at the betrayed expression he was probably throwing my way, choosing to look around in feigned ignorance for a sign of the Beauxbatons delegation. And hoping it would be less off-putting than whatever the hells that thing with the ship had been.

A glint in the sky drew my eye instinctively, and my first thought was 'snitch'. Snitches, however, would not grow so large by the second as this was doing. It was definitely something round, gold and winged though.

"There," I pointed to my mates, "What do you make of that?"

Hermione hummed, "It looks like a pumpkin."

"A flying house?" Added Ron.

It took but seconds for the thing to crash with a mighty sound in front of the assembly and prove them both wrong, though not by a long shot. It looked like a pumpkin, but the size of a house, painted a soft pastel cream with blue accents and adorned with enough gold to pass for a huge snitch. Only the wings didn't belong to it, but rather to a group of massive winged horses that pulled the contraption with some kind of harness, their pearly manes shining almost as much as the polished silver wheels behind them.

"Pegasi!" Sighed Hermione, enraptured.

Enrapturing is a good word to describe the feeling of Beauxbatons in general. Such a stark contrast.

"It looks like something out of a fairy tale!" The excitable Colin Creevey said, breathless as the rest of us, wording my thoughts.

The students descended from the flying contraption through a door on the side, a score of people wearing a light looking uniform in the same colours as the carriage. Behind them, an elegant woman in a shiny black dress straightened into her full height.

A height I had only seen before in Hagrid.

The pegasi looked like common mares next to her.

She cut through her own students gracefully, with them moving away respectfully as she neared them and immediately following In her way towards our Headmaster.

As with the Durmstrang's head, they appeared to already know each, for after a warm greeting in which Dumbledore kissed her hand twice - for there was no hope of him ever reaching her cheeks despite his height - we were all gestured to go inside the castle.

The feast was fairly normal, with the exception of everyone being closer together as there were a lot more students in the hall even if the guests were distributed along all four house tables, with Beauxbatons sitting at the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables and Durmstrang spread between Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

As per usual Dumbledore left everything important for after the feast, just offering a short introduction of Madame Maxime and Igor Karkarov as heads of their respective school before the food materialised in front of us, so we were all happily munching on our food when we were interrupted.

"Are you wanting the bouillabaisse?

I turned to my right to see a blue-eyed girl wearing a blue scarf -which at first made me think she was a Ravenclaw- standing behind Ron, one eye arched at him as he stood pale and transfixed mouthing like a fish. A particularly stupid one.

I was about to stomp his foot when he jumped in a way that made me think Hermione had been quicker than me.

"*Sorry. You can take it, there's more than enough with the other dishes.*"

Well, I'll be damned. Didn't know Hermione spoke French.

With a grateful little smile, the French witch took the bowl and left towards the Ravenclaw table, where she had been sitting, leaving us with our dinner.

Ron remained looking a bit starstruck for a while.

After the long wait in the cold outer yard it was not surprising that the hot meals provided disappeared at record speeds, making it time for the Judge of the tournament to be revealed. The impartial, strict and impossible to deceive judge.

A cup.

A flaming cup that didn't even look impressive, a rough wooden goble set aflame. According to Hermione I should be very impressed by the amazing artifact, but I just couldn't find it in me.

"So, little Harry, what are you thinking?" Came from my left as Forge plopped down on the bench.

"Planning on entering?" Came from my right, accompanied by Ron's cursing, as Gred did the same.

"I'm not of age, mates. It's not like I can enter."

"Like that has stopped you before."

That pulled a wry smile from me. "Even then, I won't try. Looking for a bit of peace this year. Besides if I'm not allowed to summon Ron and Hermione from the stands I won't stand a chance."

That caused general laughter around me. But in a way it was true after all, none of my adventures were just mine. I shared a fond smile with my friends as the crazy twins started rambunctiously inventing stories of us three to the delight of the whole house, and the bewilderment of the guests.

* * *

Halloween was declared free of classes, as no one would likely be able to actually focus on them.

I spent the morning alone sitting on a window ledge on the astronomy tower, trying to make the most of the peace and the morning sun that was fighting its way through October clouds. It was a quite charming sight, the golden rays like the fingers of a god, reaching towards the floor. I could easily lose track of time on here, were it not for the chill.

And so, when the cold winds became too much I started my trek down the winding and spiraling halls of the castle, thinking of breakfast and maybe flying around the Quidditch pitch for a while later. Have a whole leisure day. Now that sounded quite nice.

Almost nobody came to this part of the castle in the morning, so imagine my surprise when a blonde apparition smacked right into my nose with a huff as I was turning a corner.

"Son of a barghest!" I hissed, rubbing my aforementioned protuberance.

The apparition, now easily identifiable as a girl, just sat there on the floor where she had fallen with a hand on her forehead, looking at me through a curtain of fine pale hair as if she couldn't believe someone had the gall to bump into her.

"Oh, sorry," I said while I offered my free hand to help her up, my voice a bit nasal. "I was not expecting to bump into anyone here. Are you Ok?" She glared at me perfunctorily for a moment before taking my hand and pulling herself up.

"I am fine, thank you." She said, dusting her skirts with as much dignity as could be gathered in the situation. Her hands moving over her uniform made me notice that it was not the usual black, and in an amazing display of observation I saw that she was covered entirely in blue clothes, marking her a Beauxbatons student.

Her posture was stiff and prideful, confrontational, even. It was putting me on my nerves, to be honest. It didn't particularly look like she would appreciate the company, so maybe it was best I leave her to her things.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," I said shifting my feet to and fro before turning to walk down the hall.

"Wait!" Came a half shout, too loud for the short steps between us.

I turned a bit worried about the sudden outburst, her prideful stance now at odds with her fidgeting hands, "Yes?"

She bit her lip and wrung the edge of her robe, "I am quite lost and could use some 'elp."

"Oh," I said as I faced her. "Where are you trying to go?"

"The courtyard or the main gate, I am in need of some air."

I looked at her then for a few seconds, perplexed, trying to imagine what route she took to- "how did you even end up here? You are almost at the top of the tallest tower."

Her cheeks tinted a pretty shade and she lifted her chin, "It's a strange building, anyone could get lost."

That, if anything, made me smile. "You're right, Hogwarts can be a bit tricky. I got lost loads during my first year here," I said and shrugged, "follow me. I was heading to the great hall anyway."

"Thank you," She said in a dainty voice, stepping beside me.

We walked side to side for a good portion of the castle, mostly in silence at first, but as I could see her glancing at me from time to time in obvious curiosity, I started to point out certain things that could be used as landmarks, interesting tidbits I had found throughout the years. Her responses were mostly limited to noises of interest, but as she appeared to be genuinely paying attention to what I said, I kept at it.

Despite this there was a sort of restlessness to her demeanor that was, despite my best efforts to ignore it, slowly grating on my nerves. What was the problem? Sod Ron if I know.

The bullicious sound of a hungry crowd started to be heard in the distance, echoing through the walls. My stomach rumbled in anticipation, knowing his goal was close.

"I believe we 'avent given each other's names." The girl said, stopping and offering her hand just as the corridor turned and opened towards the entrance's stairwell "I am Fleur Delacour, and you are?"

I took her hand and smiled, "Harry. Harry Potter."

"Ugh," She dropped my hand unceremoniously, as if it was slimy, and crossed her arms over her chest, eyes flaring through the slits they became, " 'arry Potter? Really? Couldn't you come up with something more original?"

"What?" I said, with all the grace and finesse that characterizes me.

The girl, Fleur I had to remember, scoffed and rolled her eyes before stomping away and towards the castle's doors.

I stood there for a minute, perplexed, and just shook my head, "Ron is right, girls are mental," her long hair disappeared from view as she sharply turned after clearing the entrance.

"Oh well, nothing to be done really," I muttered to myself as I started towards the stairs and on my way to the Great Hall in hopes of a warm and hearty meal.


	2. Was It Too Much To Hope For?

** _Chapter 2_ **

** _Was It Too Much To Hope For?_ **

* * *

The strange meeting with Fleur Delacour was out of my mind by the time I was sitting at the Halloween feast.

I wasn't very fond of this holiday not so much because it was the anniversary of my parent's deaths, I didn't know that a few years ago after all, but because every year something bad tends to happen to me on this very date.

"Who do you reckon will be champion?" Said Ron with dreamy eyes.

"If the twins had managed to enter their names I would think it would be one of them," Ron and I looked at Hermione in surprise.

"What," she said, "They are too clever by half, and if those things they invent are any indication, they are a lot smarter than most people think. They don't shy away from danger either."

"That makes sense actually," I said, thinking about it, "I would not have thought of it that way though."

"That's cause they're clever. They downplay their strengths so people underestimate them."

"Hmmm." They are havoc wreckers too, I thought, not a bad skill when facing bad odds.

Ron just sat there looking as if someone had kicked his puppy.

"Come on Ronald, don't look at me like that," said Hermione amused at Ron's funk, "Harry was right yesterday. None of us stands a chance alone. I actually read that the last instalment of the tournament ended with all champions, judges and a good portion of the public dead because the wards around the arena failed and the cockatrice that the champions were supposed to battle went on a rampage."

"We killed a Mountain troll,"

"We being the operative word."

"Harry killed a basilisk alo-"

"With the help of a phoenix, which is an incredibly powerful magical creature, and one of the most heavily enchanted swords in the history of the British Isles. Not to mention he's a parselmouth, he would not have to worry about its gaze. Even if we didn't know that at the time. "

Well, Hermione does have a point, "And the chamber was too small for it to maneuver. That helped lots." It was that in fact, what gave me the chance to take that last stab.

"And even then, it bit you, if it weren't for Fawkes you would be dead." I rubbed my arm self consciously, aware of Ron's worried gaze on it.

"Yeah, you are right," said my ginger friend, "It just sounds so exciting though. To be Hogwarts Champion." Ron stared at the ceiling with unfocused, dreamy eyes, "But I guess that kind of adventure always gets balls up, huh?"

"Ronald!" Hermione always got Weasley red when Ron or I said something like that. It was endearing really.

"Follow the spiders," I mocked whispered to Ron in a gravely voice, chuckling when he shuddered at the reminder of one of our adventures gone balls up and warding my head from my brown-haired friend's book before she hit me with it. Hermione smiled despite herself.

"Don't remind me of that, mate. Especially before the feast."

That made us laugh outright, more so as a few seconds later food appeared on the plates making Ron's expression do a one-eighty.

The hall, in general, was a buzz of excitement, people chattering about, making bets and predictions about what the tasks would be. All that stopped when Dumbledore rose from his seat, eyes warm and kind, arms wide open as if he could embrace the whole room at once.

"Dear students, staff members, ghosts and guests. The time has come. The Goblet is ready to make its decision. Glory and recognition await just a breath away, a chance like no other, but as such, laden with danger unimaginable."

There was a severeness to Dumbledore that was seldom seen as he let his gaze roam over all the house tables one by one. "Those chosen here will be the Champions of their respective schools, they would be brave and kind, sly but wise. They will be tested in every way, and woe to him who is found lacking! For all start as champions but only one will keep that title, in the end".

The mood on the hall dropped in tandem with the lights that dimmed to leave only the Goblet aflame. How very like Dumbledore to drop such a warning veiled within a pretty speech.

With an awful swoosh, fire rose from the Goblet like a snake striking towards the stars on the charmed ceiling. From the tongues of flame, a scorched piece of parchment flew and Dumbledore caught it with a deftness that belied his age. I wonder if he was a seeker in his youth.

"The champion for Durmstrang institute will be Victor Krum!" Read Dumbledore from the sliver of parchment.

The Durmstrang entourage rose in celebration, chanting Krum's name like he was entering a quidditch stadium.

After shaking Dumbledore's hand Krum was directed to a door at the back of the head table and everyone quieted again, excitably waiting for the next name. In the same spectacular fashion, the name of the next contestant found its way to Dumbledore's hand.

"Fleur Delacour will be Beauxbatons chosen!" The blonde girl from before rose, all poise and elegance chin high and a delicate smile adorning her proud face. It painted a very different picture from the disgruntled girl that got lost at breakfast. Each step exuding confidence, she approached Dumbledore and then went the same way as Krum.

The last name was indeed the most awaited, and the Great Hall seemed to be holding it's collective breath, primed to explode, Which it did when with naught but a small smile Dumbledore read the name he had just caught.

"Cedric Diggory."

If Dumbledore said anything more it was lost to the yells of most everyone on the hall, though none louder than Cedric's housemates. More than walking towards the front, he was half carried there, laughing charmingly at the organizers before going towards the next was celebrating, even Ron who had been hoping for a Gryffindor champion.

I looked at Hermione and shared a small laugh at Ron's enthusiasm, when just before he was so against anyone outside Gryffindor.

There were disappointed faces in the crowd, of course, mostly from people who had put their name forward, but even they were clapping and cheering.

A flash of lightning illuminated the enchanted ceiling. No, not lightning. I turned toward the flash, it was the Goblet again. Little by little the hall quieted, realising something was amiss.

Dumbledore stood frozen looking at the small crumpled piece of parchment that he had caught by mere reflex, an then he looked at me, old blue eyes pinning me down with a sense of dread.

"Harry Potter."

And everyone heard, even though it was merely a whisper.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE
> 
> Shorter chapter this time, but it felt like the right place to end it.
> 
> When Hermione says "Not to mention he's a parselmouth. He would not have to worry about its gaze." Its because in this fic, parselmouths are supposed to be immune to the gaze of a basilisk, they didn't find out until after the fact though. Consider it a rule of my au.
> 
> Also, the first interaction between Harry and Fleur is inspired by a reddit post by u/TheDivineDemon.


	3. Rules of the Game

** _Chapter 3_ **

** _Rules of the Game_ **

* * *

I've been through a lot of shitty, dangerous and weird happenstances on and around this castle. And not once have I seen that look on Dumbledore's face. He looked at me the way one looks a bird flying oblivious towards a closed window, not being able to do anything but not being able to avert the gaze either.

That, more than anything, scared me. For once the students were completely shocked into silence.

Hermione nudge me under the table and gave me a stare that seemed to say "Well? Get moving! Find what we're dealing with." I nodded to her and got up, the scraping of the bench a scream in the silent room.

All eyes on me, I walked towards the head table where Dumbledore gestured dumbly towards the door where the other champions had gone through, an unspoken answer in the action.

The room where the champions were waiting was dark, lit only by the fire of a hearth, all of them were absorbed in their own thoughts, only noticing my entrance when the door closed loudly behind me.

Delacour's pose became instantly defensive and her mouth opened to say something, but was interrupted by Cedric.

"Harry? Do they want us back?"

"It's... Complicated."

The door banged open, barely missing me in its arc, and in came the three headmasters and the ministry officials. Of course, they would be shouting one over the other. I mostly stood there, frankly not knowing what to do, and waiting to be given some semblance of direction. At least someone to be mad at.

"Harry, my boy," The voice of Dumbledore silenced the room even with his gentle tone, he put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes, "Did you in any way or form, directly or through any other means, entered your name for the contest?"

"No, I did not," Dumbledore looked at me with disappointment in his eyes before addressing the rest of the room. Did he not believe me? After everything I've been through did he think that I would want this?

The screams resumed, looking for someone to blame. The other champions had caught what was happening and while Krum and Cedric were clearly not happy, Delacour looked positively murderous, sparks shooting from where I supposed her wand was hidden under her sleeve.

"Enough! He has to compete, the goblet is binding. On pain of death, all champions are to complete the tasks given to them," Percy's boss said with finality.

"Of course 'ogwarts would be given two chances at the cup!" The accented voice of the French headmistress intoned, anger evident even without looking at her expression.

"They only get one," That shut them right up again, "I'm not Hogwarts champion, that's Cedric there. I don't know how I would be classified but I can't be Hogwarts champion since Cedric was chosen first."

"Then 'ho 'ould you represent?" Asked the Beauxbatons headmistress.

"I don't know. Myself? It doesn't matter, does it? You've made that quite clear," I glared at the pompous little shit from the ministry.

"You say it like it's a chore to 'eld such 'onour. The chance of a lifetime!" Exclaimed a flustered Fleur, hair swinging with her gestures and eyes aflame, as if I had personally insulted her.

"Maybe it will be the last chance of his lifetime lass," A voice that sounded like gravel retorted. Moody, being his usual cheerful self.

It was not an outrageous possibility to be fair.

"Throwing someone into the fighting pit is a nice way to have them killed without raising suspicion."

"I see you haven't gotten better with age Alastor. Who would want to kill off a child in such a convoluted way?"

"I think some of your old mates would be delighted, Igor."

"Alastor that would be quite enough," Dumbledore cut in, "Harry will have to compete as an independent champion."

"This competition is not meant for someone so young," I hadn't even noticed Professor McGonagall was in the room. Her worried expression a contrast to her normal persona.

"Mr Potter, Harry you could very well die."

"Have a little faith Professor," I said with a wry smile, "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Don't joke about this Mr Potter!" She reprimanded while fighting a smile.

The ministry bloke huffed indignant, reminding everyone that originally there was a purpose to the meeting before it was derailed by me.

"The tampering of the goblet of fire will be investigated fully, of that you can be sure. Now, if we have all agreed that the fourth champion is to compete, then on to the first task."

"Mettle, and the ability to confront efficiently a dangerous and unknown situation are the marks of a great wizard. As such we will not tell you what the task entails," the man glared at my snort, "you will be allowed only the use of your wand. The task is set for November the 24th. All champions will be exempt from any classes they wish, to make time for the tournament. You will be exempt from having to take your NEWTS until the end of the summer, as to not interrupt your focus on the tasks. Those of you not examining in NEWTS will simply be exempt from the end of year exams. The champions are not to have any external help during the tasks, much less from their respective faculty members. Breaking this rule can be seen as a breach of the contract with the Goblet. Any questions?"

I had to bite my tongue at that, but as no one asked a thing he nodded and left the room. After some muttering Krum and his headmaster took their leave, followed by Delacour and her headmistress.

Dumbledore and McGonagall kept looking at me sadly when we were left alone in the room, they shared a significant glance and Dumbledore went out, leaving me alone with Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Potter I will not lie to you, this is a very dangerous situation you're in, but if anyone can come out of this the better it's you. Just remember that even if I cannot help you directly, I'm still your Professor. If there is anything I could help you with, be it an extracurricular question, advanced spellcasting, or really anything else, you know where my office is."

Her vehemence and the obvious pride in her eyes and wavering smile made me embarrassed in a nice way. It was nice to have Professor McGonagall rooting for me.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll have it in mind," I gave her a heartfelt smile, "I think you can expect me there soon."

"Then be on your way Mr Potter, get some rest. And do try to not get into any more trouble."

* * *

"Monsieur, wait!" I hadn't taken ten steps from the door and I was already getting in trouble. Probably. Ah well, Professor McGonagall should know better than to ask for the impossible.

"Yes, Delacour? Are you lost again?" Alright, maybe I was still a bit on edge from being just entered in a deadly situation. Again. Worse, a deadly situation with a watching crowd. Besides I was not in the mood to deal with spoiled prats seeking to insult me.

"Nevermind," She said after a sudden pause, her brow furrowed in an expression of distaste as she turned on their heels to go.

Ah, Gods damn it, who was being a prat now?

"Wait, Delacour," She stopped and turned her head towards me, stiff as a board. I really need to stop ruffling my hair every time I get nervous, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, I just thought you were going to insult me for the whole fourth champion thing. I shouldn't have assumed."

"Why would you think that?" She asked taken aback, her hand flying delicately to her chest.

I blushed a bit, "Past experience. It's what normally happens."

She lifted an eyebrow, "You finding yourself entered against your will in deadly tournaments is that common?"

I smiled a bit. "Not exactly, heh. It would be the first time I have competition though. Or public."

Fleur looked at me intently, head quirked to one side in a focused way that was endearing. Like a curious puppy. I flushed under the scrutiny.

"You are a strange man, 'Arry Potter."

"I've been through a strange life," I conceded her point, nodding sagely, "I would have thought you would be mad at me for cheating," I said, calling her strange a bit more subtly.

"So you admit to cheating?" She said cheekily, with a superior smile. She laughed at my half-hearted glare, "You said you didn't do it to the face of Albus Dumbledore, not to mention Madame Maxime; if they believe you it is good enough for me. I am upset at 'aving one more competitor, I wont lie, but I would not take it out on you if you are not to blame."

"Well good, cause I didn't cheat. Didn't even want to enter. Honest."

"Even if you did that would only prove you are worthy of competing. Getting past all the security measures should be beyond most wizards."

"I. Did. Not." She was being purposively dense. Flattering too, so I wasn't too sure if I wanted to feel insulted or not.

"All right, all right, I said I believed you." She said gesturing in a calm down way with her hands. She then looked both sides, as if looking for something, and promptly started to fidget in a nervous manner with her fingers, as she did when she asked me for help earlier. "Anyway, I just wanted to apologize. That's why I stopped you."

My confusion must have shown in my face because she elaborated.

"For this morning, I shouldn't 'ave let my past experiences get the better of me, and I ended up making unfair assumptions about you. I thought you were lying about your name"

"What? Why?"

Her lips twitched into a small, fleeting smile, "Past experiences, it is what normally 'appens."

It was my turn to smile, "getting lost in old, haunted castles is all that common?"

"Not exactly, being pestered by entitled boys is. It was the first time I was wrong about it, though," she frowned as she tried to wrap her tongue around that last word.

"So we're both guilty of the same huh?" I gave her a half smile.

"Looks like we are," her surprised face was really endearing too, even if it was clearly exaggerated. She smiled, "we shunned each other for being similar."

"People normally relate to the other in those cases"

"I thought we 'ad agreed on your strangeness Monsieur Potter."

Sod me if that didn't hit close to the heart. Even if I knew she didn't mean it like the Dursleys' I could not stop a bit of bitterness from entering my voice. "That would make you strange too then"

"The best people are," She said with her chin up in pride. That coerced another smile from me.

"We should get going," I cut into the companiable silence and glanced towards the doors of the Great hall, "it's already past curfew."

"I do not 'ave a curfew, I am of age," said Fleur simply.

"Well lucky you," I grumbled. "I have to sneak around. Again."

"Its 'ard to believe you didn't cheat your way in when you say things like that."

"I may see your point," I said as we both walked towards the doors, chuckling.

As we got there she turned towards me. "The Carriage is on the grounds, I will see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you, 'arry Potter."

"Likewise. At least this second time around," I smirked, "Good night, Fleur Delacour."

And with a smile, she went. I stood there until she got through the door and her retreating figure was lost in the cold night of October.


	4. A Course of Action

** _Chapter 4_ **

** _A Course of Action_ **

* * *

Getting back to the common room was easy enough. No one was really patrolling the corridors so there was little need to sneak around. I snorted, Fleur was right, I'd be lucky if anyone believed I had nothing to do with the tampering of the Goblet. Not with my track record.

"Congratulations. It's an honour for the House of Gryffindor to have a Champion," said the portrait of the Fat Lady as soon as I took my cloak off.

"It really isn't Fat Lady. I'm not competing in the name of Hogwarts or Gryffindor," I said with a wry smile.

"Why in the heavens not?!" The expression on the cherubesque face of the painting was completely indignant.

"Some loophole about only being three official Champions. And it wouldn't be fair, Cedric was chosen first. I'm competing in my own name."

"Be that as it may, everyone knows where you belong," she said with finality

"Maybe," I said, not convinced, "Barghest."

At the sound of the password the painting turned on its hinges, cutting any further response from the Fat Lady.

And causing an explosion. Or so I thought, until I got pulled in instead of blown out the entrance. There was a huge celebration in the common room, akin to when we win a quidditch game.

How did they managed in so short amount of time I don't know, but the whole room had been cleared of furniture that was now all against the walls to make space for the party and the tables were full of snacks and drinks.

The twins lifted me on their arms chanting "We have a champion!" like a mantra, and everyone was either cheering or chanting alongside them. I let them have their moment until everyone calmed down enough to let me speak.

"I know most of you won't believe me, but I did not enter my name in the tournament," I rose my hands in a pacifying gesture, from where I was trying to unknot the red and gold cape someone had wrapped over me at some point, at the sounds of protest from my housemates, "in any case I'm obliged to compete to the best of my abilities." That caused the cheering to renew.

"Under pain of death, it's how they word it," That caused a sharp turn in the general mood of the room, "Maybe for the others, this is about the glory and the money, they are older, truly champions. They even look the part, all tall and beautiful. I'm just a scrawny kid trying to get by enough to survive."

I hadn't meant to throw this pity party, but I guess I was just too tired. Just as I thought that, the weight of the day finally crashed on my shoulders. And so, without another word, I turned my back on the now grim room and got to bed.

* * *

It was bright already when I woke up, which in Scotland meant that it was way past the time I should have been up. I frantically scrambled to my feet, thinking how delighted Snape was going to be with how late I was. And then I noticed I was still wearing my robes from last night.

"Gods damn it," I cursed as I remembered the bollocked choosing. At least I could skive potions the whole year, if I was going to die at least I didn't have to see the greasy git anymore. It was a fair trade I guess.

I was alone in the dormitories, as everyone was already in class, and the same held true for the common room. I really didn't want to deal with the other students' reaction, I hadn't seen anyone outside of the Gryffs and Fleur after the choosing but I couldn't imagine the rest would be overjoyed. Specially the Hufflepuffs. But I did need to speak to Ron and Hermione, so I covered myself on my father's cloak and set ways towards the dungeons.

Some twenty minutes later the doors to the potions classroom opened, releasing a gaggle of students amongst whom I spotted a tall, red mop. Really, I don't know how we managed to sneak anywhere in the past; Ron was a walking red flag. Thank the gods for my cloak.

I took off after him and Hermione, who was almost running to keep up with Ron while he stomped further into the corridor.

"Come on Ron, you know he's telling the truth. This is just what happens every year."

Ron stopped so suddenly that I almost crashed into him "Exactly Hermione! Everything always go to him! What about us? We're always in the back, just 'Harry Potter's friends' we're just the useless decoration. Everything gets handed to him. Like he needed more fame or money," he spat, his hands clenched and his ears as red as his hair.

I stood there, mouth half open, looking back and forth between my two best friends. My only friends. I couldn't believe the little shit, that's what he thought about me? He spoke with a bitterness I had never heard from him.

"You know he doesn't think that! Don't be dense Ron, he is the closest friend we have," Hermione held her tight fists on her sides, a pleading expression on her face, "he is not some fantasy hero, he is famous for having horrible things happen to him! And we have been with him on most of those!"

"Oh, how terrible. I'm famous, I'm the youngest seeker ever, I'm rich!"

"I'm rich too!" Hermione spat, eyes burning, "My parents are really well off. Everything I wanted I had. I grew up in a huge, beautiful house. An empty house Ronald! I never had any friends, my parents were always working, I would give all to have brothers that care for me as you have. And you think Harry, who has had it worse than me, would care about those things you say more than he cares about us? About you?" I had never heard Hermione sound so emotional, her anger dissipating into a tired sadness, "You don't know what you have. You don't know what is like to be alone."

"You don't know what is like to never be alone. Never be Ron, just one of the Weasleys." Ron stormed off leaving Hermione sniffing around her tears and me rooted to the spot, not really knowing what to do.

Eventually, Hermione ran off holding back tears, leaving me alone in the dungeons.

* * *

One of the perks of being invisible is that people don't stop talking about you when you enter a room, so on my slow, depressed walk towards the black lake I could gather well enough the reaction of the school -and the visitors- towards my choosing.

The drawback of invisibility though, is that people don't stop talking about you when you are within hearing range, so the more I walked and the more I heard, the more depressed I got.

It seemed like this was not going to be an easy year. Most people thought me a miserable piece of trash that had no respect for even his peers and would do anything to rekindle an old and dying fame. Others, particularly Gryffindors, lauded me a hero which only served to draw more animosity from the former.

To top it all off I didn't even know if I had any friends anymore. Ron certainly made it very clear how he felt, and Hermione was bound to be bitter towards me for putting her in the middle however unwittingly. And despite the Gryffindor's attitude I just didn't feel comfortable. Or welcomed, for that matter.

I sighed, throwing a stone towards the lake.

"Gods be damned tournament."

One thing was clear, I was going to have all the free time I needed to devour the library. Which was something I was going to have to do if I wanted to survive. This was going to be like an exam after all, I thought smiling to myself, only you pass or you die. Nice.

Hermione said that the first task of the last tournament was a fight against a creature, so maybe I should first find out what was done in previous tournaments. It would at least give me an idea of what to prepare for. So, history books.

"Ugh," I groaned as I skipped another stone across the tranquil face of the lake. Well, at least history always managed to numb my brain. I could use the distraction.

The lake reflected what little sun managed to forge its way through the dense clouds, creating a gold pattern on the dark waters. It was hard to keep focus with such a hypnotic background.

A throng of Beauxbatons students flowed out of that main Gates of the castle at that moment towards the patch of forest where Hagrid's hut is, forking away from the lake and myself and waking me from my stupor.

"At least one of the champions doesn't outright hate me," I muttered to myself. Delacour had been nice enough after we cleared the air. Competing against her would be more like a friendly rivalry, like quidditch against the Ravenclaws. Not like I would be much competition for her. Or any of the others. And not like Cedric would be too friendly now.

I really needed to stop thinking in circles. I have to focus, prepare. Everything else will come as it will and I will face it. As always.

With that thought, I started walking towards the library.

* * *

Written information on the tournament was not hard to find, I had five books with me after a cursory visit towards the medieval post-founders History section of the library.

Thanks to Binn's curriculum this part of the library was mostly empty, so I made myself comfortable in the crock of one of the big tinted windows amongst my pile of books and set to reading. The titles were not very inspiring, with the exception of 'Blood and gl'ry. A celebration of the British Isles most laud'd champions' Of course, a lot of those celebrations were made posthumously.

In any case, the tasks were set to test bravery, intelligence and magical puissance. Each one had a focus on one of these things, while not exactly excluding the others. The first task most of the times seemed to circle around facing something dangerous, most of the times a creature; the objective of the champion was to sometimes fight the creature, or manage to focus on something else while facing the dangerous beast.

The details were too random to consider. Sometimes the champion had to hide for a certain amount of time, retrieve something from a collar on the guardian creature, protect a bound friend from said creature or any other number of things. The task could also be held on water or flying, thought land-based tasks were more common. What I gathered from the first task was that I would most likely have to fight something big and scary, nothing so out of the ordinary then. But this time I would go prepared.

"Harry?"

Measuring by how high I jumped from where I was sitting you would not think I would do well in a test of bravery, but I had been so engrossed in the book that I didn't notice my bushy-haired friend sneaking on me.

I looked at her, standing a bit away from me, hands on her back, worrying her lip like she does when she thinks she did badly on an exam.

"Yes?" I said warily not really knowing what to say, my voice dry from barely speaking the whole day.

"Have you been here all day?" her eyes roamed over my pile of books and the parchment where I was taking notes.

"Not all day. From lunch"

"You weren't at the Great Hall," Hermione had never been so nervous when speaking to me, and neither had I ever not know how to answer her.

"I didn't feel like dealing with everyone's reaction. I had enough of it while under the cloak."

"Oh, Harry," Next thing I know I'm trapped in a Hermione death-hug, tears falling on my shoulder. After a breath I returned her hug and held her as she cried, glad that I had not lost both of my best friends.

"Thank you for believing me," I muttered into her mane, "It means the world to me."

She pulled away and sat next to me, rubbing her eyes to hide the tears. "Don't be stupid Harry, you know I trust you," I looked away in shame, "You know that don't you?"

"Yeah, it's just- Well I went looking for you and Ron this morning since I couldn't find you last night."

"You heard us."

"I was under the cloak."

She bit her lip, "You should talk to him"

"I won't go looking for that git, he said enough already," My temper mounted just remembering his words. Earlier I had been just hurt, now I was mad, "After everything, everything! And he throws it all away in a temper tantrum like a sodding baby," Now that I had started I couldn't seem to stop, "He wants to be famous so much? Well good! He can go in this bloody tournament and fucking die for all I care."

"Harry stop, you are scream-"

"And weren't you supposed to be mad at him too?" I pointed an accusing finger towards her, bumping the stack of books, "you were screaming at him too."

"Stop. I am mad at him Harry, but I also know that he doesn't mean it. And that doesn't mean I stopped loving him, same as you, just because he's being stupid. He's jealous, and he will regret what he said once he processes what he feels."

"Well he can eat his processed bullshit if he likes."

"Now who is being childish?"

"I don't care. I will not speak a word to Ron. And gods help him if he tries to say a word to me."

A disappointed huff was my only answer, "I cannot blame you. But I know you'll regret it too, I know you well enough to know you're not mad. Not really."

"Then what am I? Huh? Enlighten me with your brilliance," Her frown was enough to cut me off.

"It's not my job to 'process your bullshit' as you say, you'll realise it later. And I think we have more pressing matters," She gestured towards the books that now laid sprawled on the floor, "They are making you compete right?"

I nodded, letting the issue drop, "I was trying to find out what to do to start preparing. I cannot go in blind this time."

"hum," she allowed, gaze lost in thought, "From what I've read you should probably prepare to fight something –"

"Or evade it. I gathered as much. The beasts they have used before have been absolutely bonkers. Cerberus, cockatrices, armanites, even sphinxes."

"Let's hope there are no Sphinxes," said Hermione, shuddering. She looked thoughtful for a moment, "What do you have to do?"

"I don't know. They only told us it's supposed to 'test or mettle' whatever that means."

"It means they want you to go unprepared."

I lifted one eyebrow, "I know."

"Oh," She blushed a bit, "Its a shame, each of those creatures can be faced safely if you know how. A Cerberus can be charmed with music as we did with Fluffy, cockatrices and armanites are not all that resistant to magic and are really afraid of fire and cold respectively, and if you have to face a sphinx you could- "

"Run?" I said incredulously. Sphinxes were one of the most dangerous creatures you could find.

"Well, yes. I'm sure I can find a spell that helps you run really fast," Her lip quirked with humour.

"Oh, that's all better then," I glared while fighting down a smile of my own.

"We will figure it out, Harry," A sad smile on her face, "We always do."

I returned her smile, with a pang in my chest when I realized that 'us' meant she and I only, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khaire dear readers, until the next chapter


	5. A Step Towards the Future

** _Chapter 5_ **

** _A Step Towards the Future_ **

* * *

"I told you this was not a good idea."

If anyone at Hogwarts apart from the teachers had any proficiency with wandless magic I would be a puddle of melted flesh by now. It took but for me to step into the threshold for the whole of the great Hall drop to mutterings and glares. Everyone seemed to have something to say to their neighbours.

The cheers from the Gryffindor table were murdered out by the loud boos of the rest, and even if the foreigners seemed to be more polite, their faces shower the same sentiment. It took the gentle command of Dumbledore for them to stop.

"The other Gryffindors don't mind."

I threw a glance in Ron's direction. "I wouldn't say that."

"Well, most Gryffindors don't care."

I sighted at my best friends stubbornness, "I appreciate you trying Hermione, but I think it will be best if I spend as little time as possible here. I'll see you later ok? At the common room."

With that I got up and made to leave with a piece of toast, thankful that the Hufflepuff table was farthest from mine.

As I was walking towards the entrance a glint of pale gold caught mi seeker's eyes. I turned, almost on instinct, and realized it was Delacour's hair. She caught me looking her way and sent me a small smile which I couldn't help but return.

With that and a small nod, I was on my way.

* * *

My walk towards the library saw itself interrupted almost immediately as a flash of fire materialized a few meters ahead, and from it fell a small scroll. Curious I approached it, and to no one's surprise, it was addressed to me.

_Dear Mr Potter_

_In light of recent events I find myself in the need of having a more in-depth conversation with you,_

_and in a more private environment than the one we had after the champion's selection._

_Please be in my office as soon as you are able after receiving this letter._

_Albus P. W. B Dumbledore._

I sighed while looking at the piece of parchment, of course, I was not going to be let off so easy. Dreading what the headmaster would want I took off towards where I remembered his office to be.

I probably would have to serve detention. And Gryffindor was going to lose a fuck ton of house points. I may even get expelled! Sure, Dumbledore had always been lax about the things I did at Hogwarts, like the flying car Ron and I crashed on second year, but maybe this was just too much.

I couldn't get expelled right? I had to compete in the tournament. Then again I was not representing Hogwarts, so maybe it didn't matter. Maybe I would stay for the tournament and then be asked to leave.

It was with these heavy thoughts that I got to stand in front of the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's office.

Its pupilless eyes moved towards me, startling me, and then it tilted its head as if assessing me. After a tense moment, it stepped aside, showing the stairs behind it.

Stairs that started moving up as soon as my feet touched them, leaving me standing in front of a door that opened on its own after a brief flash.

Dumbledore's grasp of magic could be seen even on things that should be mundane, his office reacting as if it was alive and thinking. Of course, as wondrous a display as it was, it only served to make me more nervous.

The door opened to the circular room I remembered from my second year, filled with books, parchment and all manner of things emitting small noises and puffs of smoke. The man himself was sitting behind his desk, writing on a piece of parchment.

"Ah, Harry. I see you are more punctual than most students are. Take a seat, please,"He said as he noticed me, gesturing towards, strangely, a sofa opposite him instead of the usual stiff chair most Professors favoured.

I sat.

"Only when the stairs behave, Professor."

"That is one of the most overused excuses, but I can never dismiss it in good faith," Dumbledore's eyes were full of mirth, "not when I've been the stairs' victim so many times."

I smiled an awkward, forced smile. It was obvious that the Headmaster was trying to ease my nerves, but it wasn't working and he knew it.

"Well, Harry, I think you can imagine the reason I called you here."

"The selection of the champions?" I said, my nervousness seeping into my tone.

"Indeed. It's a very unfortunate situation, and in a way, it is my fault for not thinking about that particular fail safe. Thought I must have to admit that it would only have warded the cup against you, and I would never have thought you to be one to try and enter a dangerous competition without reason."

There it was again, the disappointed look he gave me the day of the selection.

"You do realize that you are putting yourself in a position similar to that of your second year? Not only because of the reactions from your peers but because of-" a flash of pain crossed his face as he abruptly stopped, "because of the trials ahead"

I blanched remembering the ruined eyes of the basilisk as it's fang tore through my arm as easily as a sword, and the pain of the venom.

"You think I wanted to enter Sir? I wanted to have a quiet year, meet more people, have fun, play quidditch. Now it's just the same as always. At least I had an early warning this time."

I sat glumly on the, very comfortable, sofa under the scrutinizing gaze of Albus Dumbledore. His eyes searched mine for a while no doubt thinking my broody attitude to be childish, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

After a bit, his gaze softened and he let out a sigh and a small laugh, "I must apologize Mr Potter. Most men equate power with wisdom, but I'm a living example this is not so," He rubbed his brow, "I took your quite unique means, and a motive I assumed, and blamed you of something you didn't do."

"So I'm not getting expelled?"

"That was never on the table my boy, you have an almost supernal talent for breaking rules with loopholes that favour you," he smiled fondly, in the same way Mr Weasley does when the Twins are causing havoc, "You broke no school rules, so you can't be expelled. You broke tournament rules, but as a champion, you are bound to compete so you can't be expelled from it."

That right there was how my luck worked. Incredibly well, for the outcome that I did not want.

"You say I had means and a motive," I asked as my brain tried to draw meaning from that, "what means I could have to overcome your magic? I mean just look at this office. This is way out of my league, and this is where you spend your free time," I said as I gestured around the office.

Dumbledore seemed to deliberate on how to answer "Your father's cloak Harry. It hides more than just your body. As I said, warding against it specifically would have been unnecessary since there are no others like it, and I would not have thought you would try to enter. As for the motive, it got into my mind that maybe you would want to earn recognition through your own feats and as so not be known anymore for the sacrifice of your parents."

It made so much sense that I just sat there gobsmacked. The winner of the tournament would be remembered as so for the rest of his life. No more boy-who-lived, no more gawking at my scar. I would be acclaimed because of my deeds. I could do this too, I had killed a basilisk before with no preparation, I had faced Voldemort more than once.

Realization must have shown in my face, for Dumbledore's smiled sadly at me with soft twinkling eyes, "Alas, it appears as though my plan for you to fail the tasks in the safest way possible has just been sabotaged by my own assumptions."

I blushed at being so easy to read, "I guess so. I think there's no way I would just give up anyways. If people would speak of me let them speak of my strength, of greatness, not of cowardice. I think that's something you can understand. It would be worse than it already is," Pettigrew the coward came to mind, causing a flood of rage to pass through me, "I've seen were cowardice leads, and I would never go there."

For a moment, inexplicable fear flashed through the eyes of the Headmaster. But that didn't make any sense, did it? I must have imagined it.

"Then I can only wish you luck and give you some advice. Be prepared Harry, don't waste any time you can use to learn and to prepare. The results will be more severe than just a T in an exam. And even with the reaction of most people, remember that there is always going to be someone who cares. Never forget that."

I chuckled, somehow feeling lighter now, "No one is going to believe me right? Everyone is going to think the same thing you did, or that I'm a spoiled brat trying to eclipse everyone else. And it's as Fleur said, with my history of sneaking around and breaking rules everyone will just assume I did it again."

"Miss Delacour?" Asked Dumbledore with surprise.

"Yes, we spoke after the selection."

"I dare say Miss Delacour is cleverer than most will give her credit for," Who would say that someone as old as Albus Dumbledore could look so mischievous? "And as I said, there will always be someone who cares." I blushed, more out of embarrassment than any truth to Dumbledore's new unfounded assumption. "I would not take any more of your time Mr Potter, go enjoy your day."

"Good day Headmaster," I said with a smile as I got up and went to the door.

"Wait, Mr Potter," I turned just as the door was opening by itself, "You forgot this book in one of your classes. I offered to return it to you since you were coming this morning. "

I took the proffered book, an old tome fraying at the spine. I frowned as I examined it, "I don't think this is-" I interrupted myself when I saw the look Dumbledore was giving me.

"It's yours," He said with finality.

I opened it and on the first page read 'A.P.W.B.D' in the same flowing script of the flaming letter I was summoned here with. Realization hit me like a bludger, there was only one person with so many names.

"Thank you, sir," I said, now holding the book more carefully.

"There's nothing to thank me for, my boy. Just take care of yourself," Dumbledore looked at the book with fondness, as if it was an old friend.

If at that moment someone had said to me that by some ridiculous story my mother was not really a muggle-born but a secret bastard of Dumbledore, and therefore he was really my grandfather It wouldn't have been unbelievable. That is how dumbstruck I was.

As it was I could only nod in acknowledgement of the feeling in his manner, and leave the room clutching the book close to me.


	6. Aux Nouveaux Amis

_ **Chapter 6** _

_ **Aux Nouveaux Amis** _

* * *

At first I thought Dumbledore's gift was only a show of good faith, Sure it would be filled with powerful magic and clever spells but it would all be ultimately too far away from my abilities. I was only partially right. Indeed it had a lot of powerful spells, but none of them appeared to be complex beyond reason, they were in fact, if not simple, at least attainable. With a healthy dose of effort, of course.

I had studied for the last week, using my cloak to avoid everyone, scourging the library for books on combat magic, spells that would allow me to react quicker, give me increase resistance to damage and so on. I didn't know what the first task would be after all, but the headmaster had given me a big clue when he compared this year to my second year.

"This year will be difficult not only for your peer's reaction but for the challenges ahead," I repeated to myself.

The parallel was quite clear to me, first I was an outcast again to everyone but a few, just as I was when I was rumoured to be Slytherin's heir. What happened next? I had to fight huge, dangerous magical creatures after making a bit of 'detective work'. The way Dumbledore looked when he spoke made it clear he had been thinking of the basilisk. I severely doubted it was going to be a basilisk, first they were illegal to breed. I checked. In multiple sources to be sure. Then, it would kill everyone in the stands unless they blinded it beforehand, and fighting a blinded beast did not seem like something that would go over well with filled with glory the champion was supposed to be.

So far I had found several useful spells, there was one that would make me resistant to certain things, like fire or acid, there was other that would cure any non magical poison if cast powerfully enough, I had also found several types of shield, some of which protected against magical effects, other against physical effects. The problem was that even though I had managed to cast all these spells consistently after practicing with Hermione, they were reliant on the power behind the casting. This is where my age started to become an obstacle. I could cast all shields with enough power that Hermione wasn't able to hit me with almost anything during our practice as long as I didn't lose focus. But as a rule, sorcerers became more powerful the older they grew.

Apart from that, magical beasts were resistant to most common magic. For example, the acromantulas from the forest were immune to everything Ron and I threw at them, which wasn't much to be fair, but even more powerful spells wouldn't have worked. My best bet would be to find a way to move faster so that I could...

I froze. The answer had been staring me right in the face the whole time, I just had to-

"I would not 'ave took you for such a devoted reader"

I turned abruptly to the oddly familiar voice. Fleur Delacour stood there a half-smile on her face, obviously amused at the picture I must have painted.

You see, I had made myself a bit of a camp on a corner of the forbidden section of the library, and I likely looked like a homeless man. A tall window stood in one of the walls, the other lined with bookshelves on battle magic, with the help of Dumbledore's book I had transfigured one of the old chairs into a comfortable and eccentric looking, multicoloured sofa, complete with footrest. Hermione had cast her signature 'safe' fire into a brazier I had stolen from one of the unused classrooms and I had moved a table and a couple of chairs from another section of the library. Adorning all of this, were some sweaters I had been too lazy to put back on my trunk.

"When people say 'Take up camp on the library' I did not know they meant it literally"

"Well, I have to make up for three years of magical education. And prepare for who knows what."

"It looks like you are preparing for a fight," She said as she picked up 'Shields and Wards f'r the Errant Adventur'r' from where it was lying on the floor.

"I think it wise, given the history of the tournament. How did you even found me?"

"I was looking around the library, seeing where things are you know, and I saw a fire burning. I am a curious woman," Fleur's gaze fell on the pile of blankets of the floor next to the fire, " 'ave you been sleeping 'ere?" She asked with surprise.

"Its peaceful here. I am not well received almost anywhere else," I turned to the window to avoid her eyes, well aware of the bitterness in my voice.

"Do not let lesser men dictate what you feel, monsieur. You are better 'ere than among those that are too jealous to think rationally."

"Aren't you being a bit cynical?"

"Maybe," she said as she sat on the floor next to the fire, "But I 'ave no reasons to think otherwise. And I 'ave 'eard what they say about you; they speak just to make noise and try to feel important. You 'ave done that without an effort, and it irks them. They are not worth your time."

"Why are you saying all this to me?" I said as I sat on the pile of blankets facing her, "Why do you care?" Her words had merit, true. After all, it wasn't like it was the first time I was harassed in such a way.

She looked at me for a long moment, clear blue eyes unwavering. She turned towards the fire with a sudden move, "I don't know. Maybe I would 'ave wanted someone to say these things to me a couple of years back; It would 'ave 'elped me greatly," Her eyes turned towards me again, a small smile on her face, "Besides, it's refreshing to speak to someone who listens, for a change. And I understand 'ow you might feel"

"You been through something like this?"

She let out a sharp, mirthless laugh, "Everyday. We are different to most Monsieur Potter, each in our own way, and the majority doesn't like that, especially when we are set apart to be better. People will see you fail and cheer because it makes them feel better about their own shortcomings."

One thing I had no doubt about, Fleur Delacour was a proud Witch, and I could hardly blame her. After all had she not been chosen as the best Beauxbatons had to offer? And she was chosen fair and square, without some outside meddling like me.

"So no one is worth the trouble is what you say? We walk alone forever? I don't know if I would want that." The last week had proved to be one of the saddest I've had while at Hogwarts.

"For a while. Until we find others who are different too," Her voice was soft, almost a sight instead of words, and she looked suddenly vulnerable. A far cry from the cynical girl who spoke before.

"it's that why you speak to me? You believe we are equals?"

"I don't know," she shrugged her petite shoulders "I know that you listen, that you understand certain things that most people don't. I know that the Goblet chose you, same as me. Equals? We will 'ave to wait till the first task to see, won't we?" She smiled a mischievous smile and I snorted, "But I think that we could try to be friends."

"I'd like to try. Maybe it would even last until I win. You don't seem the kind of person that would take well to defeat," I said amused.

"If you win fairly I would accept it with grace," she said with as much dignity as she could muster, "I am not blind to my own shortcomings, few as they are," her dignity evaporated in a teasing smile, "So, let the best Witch win," she said while extending her hand, which I took.

"I think you meant 'the best one' "

"I said what I meant."

Her smile was one that sent shivers down my spine. She may look intimidating when she was all proud and serious, but with a smile as mischievous as any of the Weasley twins It went to a whole other level.

"Harry?"

For a secluded corner of the Restricted Section, I was getting an awful amount of visitors. Not only that, they were managing to sneak up on me. Hermione stood there looking with confusion and suspicion between Fleur and me and our hands clasped in a handshake.

"Hermione, this is Fleur Delacour; fellow champion. Fleur this is Hermione Granger, my best friend."

"Enchanté."

"Likewise."

Judging by the way they were looking at each other nothing could be farther from the truth. Hermione clearly didn't like her, and Fleur appeared to think little of her.

"Anyway, I 'ave to go. I'll see you around Monsieur, think about what I said," With a last look at Hermione she walked away, the eyes of my remaining friend glued to her back.

"You are staring Herms," She turned sharply towards me, clearly not happy.

"What was she doing here?" She asked brusquely.

"She saw the fire and came to investigate, found my little hobo corner."

"I don't like her," she crossed her arms as if that settled the matter.

"Really? I couldn't tell," It was always amusing when tiny Hermione tried to be intimidating, even from where I was sitting on the floor, "I don't think she likes you all that much either."

Hermione dropped with a huff in the space where Fleur had been sitting.

"She was just being friendly," I scratched my forehead and closed my eyes for a second, "Having at least one champion not hate me may improve my survival chances, don't you think?"

"It may also lead you into a trap."

"Now you are just being paranoid."

"Just keep your eyes open, unless you can't stop ogling. I don't trust her."

"Alright, alright. I'll be wary and paranoid with you. And I don't ogle," I glared at her, "Now listen, I had an idea," I leaned forward, "About the First Task. Remember how we said my best bet would be to try and avoid the danger?" She nodded, as alert now as she was in class. "Well, its obvious. I have to fly."

I smiled as she pondered the thought, "That could work. Nothing would come close to you with how fast you broom is. And if the beast can't fly you would be completely safe, even if the task is an outright fight you could shoot spells from a secure distance," Her bad humour forgotten for the moment she clapped her hands, eyes bright, "We only have to perfect your summoning charm and several offensive spells, it should be no problem."

When you start Hermione's gears they are fairly hard to stop, and so we spent the rest of the day making a list of possible spells and summoning books from across the aisles. She wanted a well-rounded spell list, appealing to the fact that I still didn't know what time of creature I would face. I just wanted shit that hit hard, because even a well-rounded spell list could mean none of the spells were useful.

This tournament was shaping to be one hell of a nightmare.

* * *

The next few days were spent practising spells in abandoned classrooms and corridors -and later fleeing when the noise drew too much attention- and talking with Fleur, who always seemed to find me. We spoke of everything but the tournament, not because we decided not to, but because it didn't seem appropriate. We swapped stories of our times at school, of our families, our pastimes; It was no wonder Fleur disliked the castle as much as she did, for all she spoke Beauxbatons sounded like the polar opposite of Hogwarts.

A delicate palace of glass and marble where everything was where it was with the sole reason of creating a beautiful space. It was warm all year round, which explained how ill-prepared it's students were for the Scottish weather.

Apart from that, the change from being in a foreign place where she didn't know how to escape her 'adoring admirers' -and there were lots of them, as I came to know- where she didn't have the commodity of her room and most importantly the comfort of an almost daily owl from her family was not something that sat right with her.

In this, I got a glance at what this year could have been. This was what I had wanted from the beginning, the chance to just make more friends, study and play quidditch without having to worry; For I believe that I had found a friend in Fleur.

She was proud and even a bit arrogant, but not malicious, at least not to me. Since our conversation in the library she was always friendly and at times even warm. It was hard for me to even match the things people said about her with her face, a face that more often than not carried a witty and mischievously sly smile.

And as we are on the things people said about Fleur, for all the things I had seen of her in those two hectic weeks there was nothing I could do to convince Hermione that she was not planning anything sinister. She disliked her with an irrational passion that was very unlike the normally rational Gryffindor girl. In a way, I could understand Hermione's distrust, after all Fleur had not given her any reasons to think she was not a stuck up brat always in the centre of attention, and she had taken exception at Fleur's criticism of Hogwarts.

"You seem very far away."

I shook my head to clear the dizziness, "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

"It looked 'ard"

"Prat," I smiled at her tinkling laugh.

"What 'ad you risking injury?" she gathered her long hair over one shoulder as it rose with a gust of wind.

I looked over the distant mountains that could be seen from our perch on a window of the astronomy tower, "Just thinking about the last weeks. I think I've never studied so hard since getting to Hogwarts," I smiled at the thought, learning so many spells so fast made me feel proud. Especially since I had managed to learn a couple of Dumbledore's.

"I also have this new friend, I think you would like her. She is a bit stuck up though and doesn't get well with my other friend, but she always knows what to say when I need it."

I looked over at her and she had her gaze lost on the mountains too, her dangling feet tapping the wall under one of my -overenlarged- winter cloaks she had been using for a while now. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Only trying to come up with an answer to your compliment that won't sound stuck up," she smiled a rueful smile.

"Zis is one of moi best traits," I said lifting my chin, with a mocking French accent that got me slapped with the oversized cuff of the, now her's, cloak.

"Does it bother you? That I don't get along with your friend?"

"A bit. It bothers me more the way Hermione acts towards you, it's not like her. Of course, it doesn't help that you keep piquing her," She blushed at my remark.

"I can't 'elp it. She acts like every other petty, jealous girl." Fleur flipped her hair with a dainty hand.

"She is not jealous, why would she?"

Fleur looked at me with pity, "If I tell you you'll get mad. Let's just say that 'er 'best friend' is spending more time with me than with 'er. And 'er other friend becomes a drooling idiot when 'e is within five meters of me."

I huffed in exasperation, they were each as stubborn the other, "If you got to know each other as we have you would realize you have a lot in common."

"If you say so," she said as she lifted her chin, eyes closed. I sighed again, stubborn indeed. "De toute façon, I 'eard there's a quaint village near the castle?"

"Yes, Hogsmeade. It's very pretty, especially in winter."

"What is it with you Britanniques and Hogs?" She seemed genuinely bewildered, I could only laugh at her expression.

"You know, I think I have the perfect place in mind if you want to go."

"Oh? Then maybe we should go," It was lucky that I was already blushing from the cold, going with Fleur to Hogsmeade would really get people talking, even more so if we went to the shady Hogshead.

"Maybe after the First Task, we'll have more time."

"I will hold you to that Monsieur. And whomever losses the task pays!"

She smiled bright and broad just as a ray of sunshine hit her face, turning her fairness iridescent.

"You have a deal, Miss," I said, for the first time looking forward to the First Task, if only to put it past me.

"I couldn't 'elp but notice you moved," I looked at her in confusion at the sudden non-sequitour, "I went to your corner in the library and it was cleared. No sofa and no fire."

"Oh, I found a quieter place, less likely to be interrupted by nosy blondes," She huffed in mock outrage, "I will show it to you later, I'm sure you'll like it."

"You sure? I am blonde after all. Unless you are only 'iding from that blond boy who's always pinning after you."

The mere thought of Malfoy pinning after me made the fall from the astronomy tower more enticing, "You are putting suicidal thoughts in my head," It was a testament to our strange sense of humour that she giggled at that.

"Alright Mon Ami, I'll visit your 'umble abode if it gives you the strength to live."

"Mon Ami?"

She avoided my eyes, "It means my friend."

I smiled in my own shyness "Well of course then Mon Ami," I said, deliberately butchering the pronunciation, "It will be an honour."

Friend. Funny thing how such a simple word can be so important, I thought as a smile fought to manifest in my face.


	7. The Weight of Expectations

_ **Chapter 7 ** _   
_ **The Weight of Expectations** _

* * *

I was sitting in my 'new quarters' which were none other than the clock room an the courtyard's tower, filled with stolen things from the library. Fleur was sitting with her feet up towards the fire, happily warming them as she read a book that she adamantly refused to show me.

I, for my part, was trying to read old tournament accounts, and I had to admit it made for good reading. When I managed to forget I would probably have to do something similar, the things other champions had faced and their clever solutions and brave showings were inspiring. It was like reading an adventure novel.

It was a lazy day for me, but I needed the rest. Why you ask? Because the day before I was grilled on advanced spellcraft theory by Hermione during the morning and endured a grueling practice of banishing charms. I'm sure I have the wall's stone pattern permanently impressed on my back, and my whole body felt as if I had been throwing Hermione-sized rocks around as a result of casting to exhaustion.

Today though I was laying on my Dumbledore style sofa reading what was basically a collection of chapbooks, only being interrupted by Fleur's sporadic giggling. She had shown up at some point and joined me in my wasting of the day after conjuring a regal looking chair and footrest from the aether. I honestly can't understand how people think she's just a pretty face when she wields magic like that so casually; conjuring from nothing is extremely hard.

I had not realized how magic really worked, or how we interacted with it really. It was my own fault to be fair, I had let the wonder of the impossible blind me and then I just accepted things as they come, after all it didn't matter it was just magic.

Turns out, it did matter. In fact, knowing this was the base for higher level casting and most careers out of Hogwarts. Magic was nestled in everything, a potential kind of energy, and we as wizards had the ability and later the knowledge to manipulate this potential to create effects.

Up to a point, these effects were instinctual, for magic responded to strength of will. This is how accidental magic happened, and truly how all magic we learned till fifth year worked.

The wand merely acted as a focus from where the effect took place so it didn't disperse before completing, the movement of the wand helped with this. The words were there to 'voice' the will of the caster, which will make bending the forces of nature to your will easier.

The last two years were supposed to teach you the theory to allow you to cast high-level magic, this type of magic is complex, and requires the wizard to know exactly how everything interacts together, be able to predict effects and manipulate the formulas and languages that allowed you to do so.

At least that is as much as I understand about it. Hermione had helped me understand enough to cast some of the spells on Dumbledore's book without passing out or suffering wild side effects, but with so little time it was as much as I could do.

Fleur's giggle shook me out of my thoughts, "What has you giggling like that?"

"Just something I read."

Yup, she was tight-lipped about that book. As I opened my mouth to tease her a bit about her plain covered, giggle-inducing book, a flash of fire produced a letter in the middle of the room. There goes my lazy day.

As the letter exploded into existence, Fleur leap to her feet, her book flying from her lap as she fumbled for her wand between the creases of the blanket she was using.

I laughed heartily at her flustered reaction and went to get the letter from the floor, causing Fleur to scowl at me, "It's from the Headmaster, he does this sometimes."

"Probably because 'e can't find you" she went to retrieve her book.

"I doubt Dumbledore can't find me if he really wants to."

The letter turns out was a summons for 'the weighting of the wands' whatever that meant.

"It's a ceremony to check the state of the wands of the champions," Fleur said as he read over my shoulder and checked the time with a spell, "Madam Maxime said she would inform me of the date and place," she frowned.

"Maybe she couldn't find you either," I suggested

"Peut-être," she said deep in thought, "If we 'urry we can get there on time, come on," It always amused me how Fleur would take off and stride full of confidence until she realized she had no idea where she was going, it was really endearing.

"Come on lost girl, I know where this is."

We got to the designated room speedily enough that we were late, but not late enough to be admonished. This seemed to please Fleur immensely judging by her superior smirk.

The room was an old classroom decorated with banners of the three schools and another black banner with a green lightning bolt cutting it in two at the centre.

Inside were the three heads of schools, the other two champions and a woman that looked uncannily like an animated mannequin and was accompanied by a bloke with a camera. Barty Crouch was in the room too, and next to him Ollivander. It made sense he was the one checking our wands, he was the most famous wandmaker of the Isles, after all.

The giant Beauxbatons headmistress scowled at Fleur and gestured for her to sit next to Diggory and Krum.

Surprisingly Diggory didn't look mad at me, in fact, he smiled a handsome smile and waved. Krum, as usual, appeared to be constipated. I took a seat between Fleur and Diggory, for she had seated herself in the farthest seat of the row, while avoiding the eyes of the woman in the back whose gaze I could feel on me. I am used to people staring, after four years it became a common occurrence for me. This person however managed to make me feel more ill-at-ease than a full room full of gawking people.

Once I was sitting, Crouch addressed the room, "Welcome champions, to the Weighting of the Wands. With this Event, the tournament officially commences," he gestured towards Ollivander, "Mr Ollivander has accepted to act as out expert in wand lore for the duration of the tournament, and as so all decisions pertaining the safety of the champions and the overall health of the wands are his. If a wand is to be repaired or replaced it will be made by him," At this, he looked at Krum whose frown merely deepened, "and any tampering of a wand is going to be checked by him," At this he looked at me, to which I could only roll my eyes. I was going to be held as a cheater from the beginning it seemed.

Fleur patted my hand as she saw my reaction and lifted her chin up as in demonstration. Holding a smile back I raised my chin too in imitation which made her giggle almost imperceptibly.

"Ahem, if all the champions are ready we'll begin," Said Ollivander smiling at us. My face coloured and I paid attention, "Ladies first," he said and gestured for Fleur to rise, "Your wand Miss Delacour if you please."

Ollivander took her wand, given by a reluctant Fleur, and started looking at it with an intensity that verged on the unnatural. After a moment he looked surprised and look back at Fleur as if seeing her for the first time, and then back at her wand, "I see… A quite unique wand, bonded as strongly as a wand can bond to a Witch. A unique core Inside a beautifully carved rosewood handle," he inspected it a bit more, "In perfect condition and well cared for."

With a gesture, the wand produced an almost white tongue of flames, startling Ollivander.

"Temperamental. For any other witch or wizard, a completely useless stick. For you, however, I daresay a more perfect match would be impossible."

Fleur took the wand back, her face looking like that of any person who was in the company of the unnerving wand maker for too long, an odd mix of discomfort at his odd ways and pride about the information that came from the extension of yourself that is your wand.

Next up was Krum's turn. According to Ollivander, his wand was a dragon heart and hornbeam wand, and in good condition. Stout and rigid, but strong and hard-working. 'A windmill atop a mountain' or whatever that meant.

At Ollivander’s wave, the wand produced a fountain of wine, making a mess of the floor.

Cedric's wand contained a unicorn hair from a particularly manly and beautiful unicorn, because of course it would, and produced a golden sphere of light that floated in the air and gave off a calm, golden light that bathed everything in the room. The whole thing made me feel inadequate. Who would peg me for a champion by comparison?

Ollivander then looked at me and smiled as he gestured forward. I made my way towards the front and slipped on the spilt wine, gods damn it I sure knew how to make an impression.

"Your wand is not one I will forget easily Mr Potter, Phoenix feather and holly, seen her share of scuffles. One of a pair," I stiffened but he didn't reveal anything else, I would not enjoy the knowledge of my wand's relationship to Voldemort's becoming common knowledge, "The rebirth of a possibility, two who oppose each other but are the same. Will the outcome change?"

I opened my mouth, not really knowing what for, but Ollivander just waved my wand not paying any mind to my confusion, or to my indignation at being compared to Voldemort so directly.

Nothing came out of the wand, but for an awful thunderclap which made everything shake and rumble, making everyone jump in fright, though I doubt anyone higher than me. Ollivander stood immutable, my wand extended towards me in offering.

"Great things Mr Potter, that is the only sure thing."

I took my wand and hurried to my seat, all eyes on me, all in some state of surprise. But Dumbledore's eyes where outright scared, his face pale. You have to give it to Ollivander, he knows his theatrics.

"All wands are in good health and well bonded. All champions are cleared to compete."

The flash of a camera brought a sulfurous smell as the man with the creepy woman took pictures.

"Champions be reminded that the task is to take place on the 24th, and you are only allowed to come with your wand. For now, you are dismissed," said Crouch.

I stood with the others, Fleur shoot me an apology within her small smile and went to her headmistress, who didn't seem too happy with her. Seeing as she would probably go back to the carriage I smiled and made to go.

As I was nearing the door a cold hand gripped my shoulder with surprising strength and started pulling me towards a broom closet at the back, "Harry dear, I don't suppose you'd mind giving me an interview, will you? To add a bit of colour to the article," Great the creepy woman is a reporter, how fitting.

I shook her hand from my shoulder, "I don't really have time now, I-"

"Actually Harry, I wanted to speak with you. Can we walk back to the Great Hall together?"

Cedric stepped between me and the blond wigged lass.

"Absolutely, let's go," I didn't wait to see if he was following and I was out the door already. Fleur was rubbing off on me, apparently.

With hurried steps, Cedric reached me, with his long legs It probably didn't take much effort. "Rita was not amused," he said with a smile, "It's not wise to cross her, she's a vindictive woman."

"Good thing I'm not a Ravenclaw then, eh?" He chuckled, "Thank you for that mate, that woman is bloody creepy."

"She did seem taken with you."

"Gods! Shut up Diggory that's… Ugh!" He bellowed at my disgust, the little shit. Maybe there was another champion who didn't hate me after all.

"The French champion also seemed awfully chummy with you too," He said with suggestion in his eyes.

"We're not 'chummy'. Fleur is my friend."

"So Fleur is it? You seem really proud of being her friend," I did not realize I had lifted my chin as she does, at this rate Snape was going to have a gold day with me becoming the brat he always knew me to be.

I stopped walking, forcing Cedric to stop too, "What is it you want Cedric, you said you wanted to speak with me. Is this what you wanted to talk about? Cause frankly its none of your business."

He lifted his hands in a placating gesture, "Easy firecracker, I'm just pulling your leg. I wanted to tell you that I believe you. About the choosing I mean, I believe you did not enter willingly," He scratched the back of his neck, "I also wanted to apologize about the badges. I told the other Puffs not to wear them, but they are thickheaded that lot."

"What badges?"

He looked at me incredulously, "You sure have become a true hermit, eh?"

"I avoid everyone I can, yes. I don't have time to deal with the bullshit of the masses. Or the mass of bullshit. I have a lot to learn in too little time."

"Well never mind then. People have been belittling you with some stupid badges that say you suck. I tried to make my housemates stop but, as I said Puffs are stubborn."

"Don't worry about it Ced, you tried. I'm sorry I stole your thunder."

"Everyone sees it like that," he said huffing, "As I see it, it only means I get to beat the famous Harry Potter! Again!"

"Don't get too excited just yet, I think I have a chance at this. And that last match doesn't count. Dementors, remember?" I said with a wry smile.

"I still got the snitch," He smiled, "Anyway, see you around mate. I have to run."

"Good-bye Ced."

Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

"By the Gods, fucking dragons. I'm going to die, they just want to kill us. Whose fucking idea it was to bring sodding dragons," Ron would be proud of my cursing. The little bastard. Sorry, Arthur.

Funny, how those types of thoughts suddenly pop into your mind when you are panicking.

In any case, there was little else I could think about on my whole way back from the forest. Or the rest of the night for that matter.

It was November the 22th. No, scratch that, it was after midnight already. It was November the 23th.

After the weighting of the wands, my days keep rolling the same way in L'ermitage, as Fleur called my room in the clock tower. I'd wake up, I'd read, I'd practice, I'd eat and I'd practice more. More often than not Fleur would make me company, but that was the only thing that changed in my routine. That and how sore I was at the end of the day, depending on which spells I had been trying.

Hermione thought I was ready enough for the task, and before tonight I thought so too. But this afternoon she had told me that Hagrid wanted to meet at midnight for something important. Seeing as something important enough to meet clandestinely at night for Hagrid had meant dragons and acromantulas in the past I though wise to heed his call.

Turns out his sense of 'important' hadn't changed a whole lot. Buggering dragons.

As I laid in my bed, wide awake, I kept seeing different ways in Which I could die in just a hand full dozen hours.

Burned, crushed, spitted, ripped apart. Damn if those dragons don't have ways to kill a paltry, measly little boy like me. Chance of a lifetime indeed.

"Shit and ashes, Fleur!" Only now did the thought cross my mind. Fleur had to face those creatures too.

Fuck everything, I wasn't getting any sleep anyway. And naturally, the best course of action I could think was to sneak out to the Gryffindor tower to get my broom and fly into the carriage through a window. In the night. At 2 am. Through the window. Need I remind you that the dorms of the house of the brave are at the top of the second highest tower of this really old castle?

So I found myself balancing precariously in front of a window of the Beauxbatons carriage fumbling with the lock of the window with one hand, the other holding my invisibility cloak so that it didn't fly away in the breeze. House of the brave indeed. As the lock clicked open I mentally cheered. These ones were a lot harder than the ones at the Dursleys.

Obviously, it was going too well, so my Potter luck kicked in as I landed in the artfully decorated hallway. The most horrible sound I could have imagined tore into the air, making the decorations that rested on the small tables lining the wall shake almost as much as my vision. I lost my balance and hit the wall, the cloak slipping from my frame.

I managed to cover myself and most of the broom under it as the first doors started opening, heads of curious girls in various stages of waking looking around for me.

Well, looking for the source of the disturbance, but that's synonymous with me most of the time.

Madame Maxime chose that moment to emerge from a room opposite the place I was leaning on, wearing what was probably enough silk to dress all of the other occupants of the carriage.

"Vous tous arretez! Who tripped the wards?!"

Of course, wards. Who puts wards outside the dormitor-Oh! Never mind, we have them in ours too. Looks like the French don't trust their kids to behave either.

The students quieted down as Maxime cast a menacing eye around the hall, apparently not finding what she was looking for. she frowned and said.

"Everyone inside. If this happens again it will be detentions for all of you."

All the half-asleep students started to trickle back into their own dorms. At this point I realized she was not speaking French. Maybe so that her threats were more universal, what with possible English an German-speaking rascals to add to the normal French-speaking ones.

When everyone was back inside, Maxime turned back towards her room only to stop and turn her head towards the end of the hall and call out something in French.

"Tes-vous d'accord Fleur?"

I thought for sure the crack of my neck was going to give me away right there. They were too far from me to hear it, thankfully. Fleur, Which was the only word I understood from that, was standing just outside a door, wearing- do women wear dresses to bed?

"Oui Madame, tout va bien"

"Eh bien, retournez au lit alors. Tu as besoin de repos."

As little French as I have, I knew what she said. I've seen that expression on Dumbledore's and McGonagall's face often enough. Fleur looked about as well rested as I do, and by her face, Maxime though as much. Not that she knew how my face looked right now, thank the gods.

Fleur nodded jerkily as Maxime disappeared through her doorstep, and stood for a few seconds there, lost in thought. Those few seconds I did not waste, for in that time I managed to get close to fours steps from Fleur's door and inside her room proper before she managed to close the door. A feat, if I do say so myself, especially when hauling a taller than me broom and being under a slippery cloak without clamps.

I held my breath as she went inside just behind me and closed the door. She stepped beside me and went to sit on her bed, staring at the wall where some pictures were hanging, illuminated by a candle on her nightstand. Soft warm light danced on the peaks and valleys of her face, lending her a melancholic look, turning her eyes sadder.

"Hey Fleur."

Personal recommendation, never enter a girl's room without her knowing and stare at her as she ruminates in the middle of the night before softly speaking her name. They don't appreciate it all that much.

Fleur instantly jumped from the bed, eyes wide, a fireball in her hand. She searched the room with her gaze frantically, hair whipping back and forth. Fortunately, I was invisible. Not so fortunately, she has a really keen ear. And so a fireball found itself way too close to my head after the carpet crunched slightly under my feet.

"Wait Fleur! It's me! Stop"

I said pathetically while dropping my cloak, my broom and my dignity. Two of those I could always pick back up.

On her part, Fleur froze. Her eyes widening even more and her jaw dropping. Thinking that she had calmed, I took a step towards her, only for her eyes to narrow and her mouth to form a thin tight line. It was my turn for having my eyes widen. And thank Athena for my light feet.

Another fireball flew by me as I let myself fall to the side and rolled up to my feet, only to have to sidestep a third flaming projectile. Fleur didn't look as surprised now as she looked enraged, pitching balls of fire like they were on discount.

I aimed my wand and shot a petrification spell right at her chest. The dim blue magical pellet stormed past the barrage of fire and hit the mark.

All sounds stopped except for the thud of Fleur hitting the floor, my panting breath and the sizzling sound of my scorched outer robe. As fast as I am, and as much experience as I have in deathly situations, she got a couple of shots on me. Maybe I shouldn't be as worried about her as I was. Wandless fire conjuration, Fleur managed to impress me every time.

Of course, that reminded me of why I was here in the first place. I cautiously walked towards the fallen angel, beautiful still, smoke still rising from her hands, and well, still. Unnaturally so. But I couldn't be sure if I had hit or merely graced her with my spell in which case I had to be prepared to dodge again.

I would have laughed at the position in which she froze, in the middle of pitching another fireball. Until I saw her eyes, glowing from unsuppressed rage and tears, showing hate and fear and an overwhelming impotence. I choked on my laugh right there and then.

Gods I am so stupid.

"Look Fleur, I know what you are thinking and I am very sorry. I was panicking in my room and I didn't think how bad an idea it would be to sneak in here without you knowing. I just came here to tell you something, okay? I'm going to release the spell now."

Her eyes were maybe even more furious than before. I sighed deeply.

"Finite."

Fleur scrambled to her feet, wiping her tears on a fist and scowling for all she was worth.

"Zo? What is it you 'ave to say?" she asked after she retreated as far as she could from me and crossed her arms as if they where draw bars to a castle's gate.

"I was with Hagrid earlier, I mean the big guy that's around you know? He really likes dangerous creatures and- well he asked me to- well he told my friend to tell me- Maxime was there too!" I exclaimed looking a bit crazed.

Good going Potter, you terrify her and then start rambling and pacing. Stop. Breathe. Open your eyes.

"We are to face dragons." 

Okay, that sounded saner. As much as that phrase can be classed as sane.

Her face changed instantly, reacting to her obvious surprise, and then her eyes softened and her frown lessened.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I saw them. Hagrid showed them to me, we went to-"

"The forest. I know, Maxime was there as you said."

I looked up from my fidgety hands and saw that she came closer to me, and onto the light of the candle again. Tear tracks still stained her face, but she looked more drained than furious right now.

"I saw her there. Pretty hard not to. I think I was crashing her date with Hagrid, even," I chuckled. She let out a small laugh that made me relax a bit and flopped down to the floor leaning against the side of her bed and faced the photographs again.

"She told me. I 'ave been sitting 'ere since then."

"I couldn't sleep either. I was just thinking about how stupid the motherfucking organizers of this tournament are."

She turned to look at me, all wide eyes and tear tracks, and patted the floor next to her. I sat down and stared at the pictures on the wall too.

A short, pudgy man with a goatee that had those same crystal clear eyes that are so Fleur waved from a frame. An elegant woman and a small kid missing a front teeth smiled at me from another.

In each photograph was Fleur too, but a Fleur that I've only seen for moments, when we were alone. Laughing the world away with the people that could only be her family. She looked carefree, relaxed.

"Happy."

"I was."

I glanced at her; I hadn't noticed that I had spoken aloud. She was focused on the pictures, her face unguarded and a small soft smile gracing it. An inkling of something stirred in me.

"Ahem, err... Are those your parents?"

"Oui. And mi leetle sister. I love them very, very much," A tear broke free from a prison of lashes, "I- *sigh* they where the only thing I could think of when Madame told me about the task.

"I thought of you," I said distractedly, paying little mind to my tongue. She turned her head towards me eyes wide in surprise, and as still as she was moments before.

"Moi?"

My cheeks warmed under her incredulous stare as I got the implications of what I'd said. She was watching me as if she had never seen anything quite like me. It was a heavy stare. I took a deep breath and returned her stare.

"There is not a lot of people I care for, so you came to mind quick enough," We stared at each other for a few seconds before abruptly breaking the line of sight.

"I was freaking out about being Burned and crushed and bitten, an then I though 'Fleur's going to have to face a dragon too' and even when I knew Maxime had seen them I couldn't be sure you know? After all no one told me about them and- and-" I hadn't even noticed I had started to flay my arms around again, "Well... I guess I just wanted to be sure. That you knew. I don't have a lot of friends, and I wanted to keep you safe."

I was starting to feel stupid and embarrassed. And fidgety again. Who was I to presume she needed help, or that she would need someone to keep her safe? Much less me. I'm the underdog of the tournament for Merlin's sake.

I started to get up only to be stopped by her hand on my shoulder, and a shiver.

"Thank you 'Arry." Short. Heartfelt. Honest. Another shiver. Another instant of meaningful stares.

"There's no need to thank me," I gave her a small smile and got up from where I was now crouching, her hand falling from where it was on my shoulder.

Not that she let me get away, her hand found mine, and with surprising strength, she snapped me back to the floor.

"Where do you think you are going?" She said sharply. A little of her fire was back in those delicate features.

"Out? It's like three in the morning and I'm not supposed to be here," At this, I jerked my head subtly towards the scorch marks by the door. She blushed slightly. I took it as a victory.

"You deserved that! You- you- peeping Tom! She half hissed half screamed while poking my chest with a very pointy nailed finger.

We both burst out in laughter. Golden pearls of laughter that had to be stifled in the hanging coverlet of the bed, least someone heard. Beautiful, tension melting laughter that cut, if only for a bit, through all the terrors and worries, all the fears.

So there we stayed, on the floor, brushing our eyes and still shaking with chuckles and giggles from one moment to the next.

"I think I got away easy, you didn't even burn me," I said.

"I did char you a bit," She said, playing with a hole in my robe that was still smoking a bit, "I am sorry. You wanted to 'elp and ended up burned," She was avoiding my eyes now, "Again."

I put my hand over hers, she still looked only at the unfortunate piece of clothing, "Story of my life," I smirked, "It's okay. I invaded your privacy and attacked you. My intentions were good but I could have gone about it a different way. I would have, if I hadn't panicked. I'm really sorry too."

We shared small shaky smiles.

"I really need to go Fleur."

"You can't"

Okay, now I was getting confused, "Why?"

"If you go out again you will trip the wailing charm again, and this time it will freeze you as it should 'ave done before. No one is that lucky twice, not even you. 'ow do you think you will look frozen sneaking out of my rooms at this un'oly 'our. 'uh?"

"Damn. What about the windows?" I was already getting up and walking towards them.

"That would work," he smirked, "if you were the size of my eleven year old sister."

"Who makes windows this small," I said as I inspected the offending opening on the wall.

"Someone who wants to keep 'appy couples apart," she giggled. I, of course, blushed spectacularly. Kind of like Ron does. The little shit. Thinking of Ron got me muttering under my breath.

"Stop brooding 'Arry. Come sit again," She patted the floor next to her once more. I sat, broodingly. She shifted closer to me and put her head on my shoulder. Now I froze.

"We'll just 'ave to wait till morning and then you can sneak out as you came in."

Her eyes were closed and her face relaxed. I was tense and about to run on the other hand.

"Where did you get that cloak by the way? They are very rare," She said, head turning to face me, not lifting her head off my shoulder.

"It was my father's, I don't know we're he got it. Dumbledore gave it to me during my first year," I turned to the wall, a smile forcing its way to my face at the thought of my father, "I do know he was more reckless with it than I am."

She snorted, "I doubt that's even possible," my smile widened.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. One time, he and his friends snuck out trying to find the kitchens and..."

And so I started to tell her some of the stories Sirius and Remus had told me in their letters, relaxed again in the happiness of remembrance.

After a while, she hugged herself to my side which surprised me greatly. She had fallen asleep. I smiled a bit, apparently the Marauders were a nice bed time story, who would have thought?

I pulled the duvet from the bed and a pillow so that it covered us from the chill of the window I had not closed. I saw her face in the light of the dying candle, clothed in flickering shadows that seemed to sharpen the elegance of her aristocratic visage. I could not help but be awed again.

I only hoped she didn't try and kill me again in the morning. I was still worried about how scared she looked when I petrified her. But there was nothing to be done now, except trying to get some rest and deal with the problems as they came.

That was the last thought I had as the crashing waves of her soft breath lulled me to the lands of Hypnos.


	8. Only Hours Left

** _Chapter 8 _ **

** _Only Hours Left_ **

* * *

This was a strange morning. I could barely move for one, and the parts that I could move hurt with the sore ache of not having moved in a while. Then there was that sound. Like waves crashing gently on the shore. It was really calming and it was about to lull me back to sleep, were it not for something tickling my nose.

As I moved to scratch the itch away I realized that the pillow I was hugging was way too big and warm to be a pillow. And then my fingers got tangled of the soft tuft of hair that was moving gently in the -now morning- breeze coming from the still open window.

Shining pale golden hair, so like Fleur’s. I immediately jerked away from my deathly fire throwing pillow as remembrance kissed realization and my situation became evident to my still sleep-addled mind. I was way more awake now that’s for sure. I was also pinned in place, as my arm rested under her blonde mane, and my hand was grasped within hers.

“Wait. Don’t pull away. Not yet,” Came the soft murmur. I had obviously wakened her on my panic.

“Are you sure?” I asked, very stiff and aware that my other hand has been resting just on her belly. The fabric of her nightdress so thin and soft that it might as well not be there. I was getting very nervous, and yet Fleur was so relaxed and content. As if this was a common occurrence. One that she particularly enjoyed. Not what I expected after yesterday.

She turned around, head still on my arm. “Is it so terrible to 'old me ‘Arry?” Her eyes were big and vulnerable, and I was just melting under that gaze. I felt like Icarus, about to die for getting to close to divinity.

“You know it’s not. But I didn’t think you would want me to, especially after last night. And the way you’ve always talked about men and... Well, how we are in your room and- like- you wearing that, I-“ I sighed and decided maybe less talking would be better. She dropped her gaze.

“Normally no, you are correct. Especially not after-“ She started fiddling with my ruined robe again, “There’s a good reason why le Madame started warding the corridor,” I looked at her in surprise, “Don’t look so surprised, I was not always an experienced and knowledgeable witch after all, ‘Arry. I was always beautiful though, so they were needed.”

“Humble too.”

She smacked me in the chest, “ ‘ush,” she smirked, “The point is, leetle chevalier, that you were in a position that most everyone would ‘ave taken advantage of,” the earlier humour dead as her eyes cast down again, “Only you didn’t. In fact, you gave me what advantage you ‘ad thinking of my safety. You are a good man ‘Arry, despite your voyeuristes tendencies,” She gave me a shaky smile at that.

I was speechless at first. To hear the sadness in her voice, despite her attempts to lighten the mood, felt like a punch. I probably played out one of her most real fears, the look on her eyes as she was petrified would haunt me for some time now.

“You don’t know how incredibly sorry I am Fleur. I wasn’t thinking straight, I was panicked and I rushed ahead and did the first crazy idea that popped into my head,” I drew breath to continue apologizing but she silenced me with a finger to my lips.

“Do not apologize anymore, you gave me your reasons last night and I forgave you, otherwise I would ‘ave let you go out and be caught by Madame Maxime. You ‘ad good intentions, and I think mortal fear of a full-grown dragon is a better excuse than most,” We both chuckled at that, and the hand whose finger was warding of my rambling tirade of apologies made its way to my back, in a half hug that was threatening my sanity as much as the dragon panic.

“I feel safe, at least for now,” She rested her forehead on my chest and exhaled deeply. “I would spend the rest of the day ‘ere, as we are, just to avoid the crazy things waiting outside.”

I decided that she was right. If there was a storm coming, maybe we should soak in the peaceful moments we had now. My words were in no hurry to come back, stemmed back by Fleur’s reassurance, but I’ve never been much with words, so I did the only thing I could do. I held her closer, my face buried in a golden threaded pillow. And so we stayed like that, without much thought or talk, just enjoying the warmth and the peace. The company of someone who shared the same obstacles in the future was strangely comforting, and not something at all common for me.

Footsteps and voices started to pass outside, probably people going to breakfast.

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

The sharp sound of someone rapping on the door resounded through the silent room, making us jump apart suddenly. Or try at least, but in the tangle of legs, covers and blonde hair we only managed to wriggle and writhe, Fleur ultimately head-butting me on the chin. She does seem to have something against my face.

Fleur stopped moving and faced the door doe eyed and fearful. I, on the other hand, did the most ridiculous attempt at hiding possible and dove under the covers, covering her up to her waist and laying over her legs as if I had just tackled her. I heard the door open and then Maxime’s voice.

“Bonjour Fleur. J'espère que vous allez... bien,” That pause sounded like she probably noticed the scorched wall and broken things.

“Aussi bien que possible,” Ohhh haughty Fleur voice. Even if I can’t understand French, I could picture her standing straight with her chin up, as if being found sleeping on the floor after attempted arson was not strange, and the other person was in fact intruding. “Après m'être ventilé un peu, bien sûr, je me suis endormi. J'étais sur le point de me préparer pour le petit-déjeuner. Cela vous dérangerait-il terriblement, madame?”

“Oh. Sûr. Je te verrai au petit déjeuner alors. Je voulais seulement m'assurer que tout allait bien.” I couldn’t blame Maxime for her confused voice, not for her unsure steps as she walked away, the steps of someone deciding to turn around. “Et Fleur? Si vous avez besoin de parler ou d’avoir besoin d’aide, je suis ici comme je l’ai toujours été. N'en doutez jamais.”

More steps, this time a bit more firm. 

“Je sais, Maxi. Merci,” she didn’t sound as stuck up now.

The door clicked shut. Fleur lifted the covers on one swift move, revealing me huddled to her legs, heart pounding and eyes wide. Fleur, on the other hand, was biting her lip in a half smirk, eyes shining. I started chuckling. She bit her fist, shaking in contained laughter, and then we exploded in deep bellows, stomach hurting laughter, rolling around with tears falling.

“Je ne peux pas- hehe, I can’t- I can’t believe that worked,” Fleur said, wiping her face of tears.

“Me neither,” I chuckled, “I thought we were busted for sure. We were so lucky.”

“Indeed you were...” She looked at me intensely, biting her lip in a half smirking. Her eyes shot to her legs and back to me, a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow rising on her face.

Of course, I choked on my laughter and blushed impressively, not sure if out of embarrassment or the sudden coughing fit. Fleur smiled victoriously at my reaction, a fair dusting of red adorning her pale cheeks. At that moment, she looked like the happy, mischievous girl in the pictures on the wall.

That alone made me smile, “I _am_ known to be extremely lucky,” My voice came a lot softer to sound like teasing, despite my intentions. I stood there trying to compose my face and avoiding Fleur’s gaze. It was awkward, but in a way it was... Fun, too. Light-hearted. I just knew I had to contain that stupid little smile. A giggle from Fleur snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Well Mon Voyeur, I need to change before we sneak out,” I googled and she raised her eyebrow, “Well? Turn around ‘Arry”

“Right, right. Yes,” I said I soon as my mind started moving again. This morning was only getting stranger. True to her word Fleur seemed comfortable and... Light? Maybe a shared death threat was enough to bond over. It certainly seems as if it’s the way I get all my friends. Which shouldn’t be normal, to be fair.

“All done,” I turned and saw her, arranging the way her hair came out of her uniform’s beret. I tried not to notice the rest of her uniform too much.

“Let’s go then. Let me get my cloak.” After fishing my cloak we made our way through the carriage, Fleur leading ahead. All the carriage was as richly decorated as the corridor were I landed, in soft pastel blues and creams. I was surprised no fairies came out from under the furniture in the same way I wasn’t surprised you could find a Cerberus while strolling through Hogwarts corridors.

The trek back was uneventful, and soon enough we found ourselves outside of the Great Hall. “Thank you ‘Arry,” she said to a point in the air to my left, “For worrying about me, and for being brave enough to do something,” Her lips quirked a bit, “You owe me for peeping through.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“Not if I can ‘elp it. See you around.” After one last smile, she turned and strode into the great Hall, hair bouncing on her back with each confident step. For all the world as if she had not a single worry. I shook my invisible head at her retreating form and hid behind a statue to put my cloak away.

* * *

As I entered the Great Hall I couldn’t help but notice the familiar sound of a gossiping room, nor the shocked silence and the renewal of chattering. I paid it as little mind this time as the last time, or the one before. They were likely gossiping about my sudden appearance at this meal after being absent from them since the morning after the selection. Besides, I was in too good a mood to let it get to me. I took my normal seat as of late, for the few times I decided to eat in here, next to the only friend I had left.

“Where were you last night,” Came the sharp voice of Hermione Granger.

“Good morning to you too, the weather is fantastic, is it not?” Hermione looked chastised at that, realizing that we were surrounded by people eating with suspicious slowness.

“Sorry,” She said, worrying her lips in that way she usually does when worried herself. She scooted closer, “But really now, where were you? I was waiting for you at your place all night and you never got there. I was worried. I asked Seamus if you had gone to the tower for some reason and he said you didn’t bother going to sleep with them now, and then the Beauxbatons have been chattering with the Ravenclaws about some kind of incid-“

“Shush,” I stopped her tirade violently, my cheeks gaining a bit more colour than normal. The rumour mill was wild enough without extra material. It was bad enough that Fleur and I didn’t consider how it would look when we got here late and almost together.

Apparently, my reaction was enough for Hermione to make some connection, if I went by her widening eyes and the way her mouth open and closed as if forming words that wouldn’t come.

“Don’t. Not here. I’ll tell you later ok? It has to do with the first task,” I whispered the last part as loudly as I could to try and divert the possible gossipers, my good humour diminishing at the memory of why I had been in the carriage in the first place.

“Mffffh,” She crossed her arms and dropped her shoulders, clearly not happy. Her familiar reaction pulling a smile from my face, “Alright, but don’t think I will let you down easy, mister,” She said, pointing her finger at me, “I’m in your corner Harry, as always, but I cannot help you if you don’t keep me in the loop,” She threw a furtive glance towards the House of Wisdom, “Or if you decide to be reckless.”

We shared a smile at that. Being reckless is our thing after all.

* * *

Hermione is nothing if not persistent so as soon as we had eaten enough she almost forced me to L’ ermitage so we could speak, which seeing as that was the whole reason I got to the Great Hall in the first place it wasn’t a bad thing.

“What happened Harry? What did Hagrid want? Why didn’t you return after? What’s the thing with the Beauxbatons rumours? Is it about you an-“

“Hermione! Breath, gods. One question at a time,” She bit her lip and frowned, trying to decide which question was more important.

“Look, let me start from the beginning it’s not too long a tale. What happened is that Hagrid took me to the forbidden forest at midnight, which should give you a clue to what happens next. I was following him under the cloak since Maxime was with him in a sort of date,” Hermione nodded slowly as if unsure if I was making sense, but not wanting to interrupt again, “Turns out he finds dragons to be pretty romantic.” Hermione’s eyes widened and she gasped.

“Dragons,” she exhaled.

“Dragons,” I nodded, “I still don’t know what I have to do, I just know that a fully grown dragon is going to be waiting for me there tomorrow.”

Hermione mouthed something incomprehensible and launched herself at me in a crushing hug. How could a girl so small be so strong?

“Mione, air!”

She released me at my desperate pleading, looking at the same time abashed and worried.

“Maybe I’ll just summon you from the stands and let you choke the dragon.”

She punched my shoulder with force, “How can you joke! A dragon, Harry! There’s almost nothing that could be worse.”

“Well, thanks for putting it in such a comforting way.”

“Stop. Stop deflecting me with your stupid sarcasm. You could die.”

“You think I don’t know that? Do you think I didn’t freak the fuck out when I find out? I know what I am up against. There are just hours left, there’s nothing I can do I haven’t already done. I’ll go with our plan, we made it with a big dangerous creature in mind and that’s what we got,” I sighed, suddenly tired, “I can only go there and do my best.”

“I just want you to be okay,” Hermione said in a small voice, eyes brimming with tears. This is when I realized something I should have known from way back. Hermione was, in a way, as alone as I am. She saw Ron and me in the same way I saw them, they are my brothers.

Only for Ron, that was nothing special, he had so many brothers that one more made no difference. And then there was this girl, holding back tears for me. Because for all the times I had been in danger, she had always been right there to help, to keep me safe. But not this time. She is as close to family as I got.

I extended my arms and she hugged me again, sobbing softly, “You won’t lose me this easily, I promise.”

I hoped it was a promise I could keep.

After a while, she calmed down, “Alright, I’m sorry I should be giving you encouragement not crying like a stupid girl.”

“Knowing you care is encouragement enough, Mione”

She smiled at me until she remembered she had more questions.

“There was another thing. What is that about the rumours from the Beauxbatons? Why didn’t you come back last night?”

I blushed again, I couldn’t help it.

“Harry! You didn’t. Did you?”

“Well, for starters I don’t know what you think I did. I don’t really know what the Ravens were gossiping about.”

“They were saying that someone broke into the carriage last night, triggered the wards. The main reason they are giving is Delacour sneaking a paramour into her room.”

“That’s ridiculous. No one who knows Fleur would believe that,” I shouldn’t be so outraged, I knew that people bad-mouthed her as much as they did me. It’s one of the reasons we got close.

“So it wasn’t you,” Hermione sighted in apparent relief.

“Errr, no. Well, yes. It was me,” I gestured for her to stop as she made to speak, “I was a panicked mess after seeing the dragons. I could not sleep I keep just thinking in circles, and a thought popped into my head. I am not the only champion.”

Hermione's face softened with a mixture of fondness and pity as she looked at me, “Oh, Harry...”

“She has to face those beasts too, Mione. I could not let her go into that without telling her,” I shook my head sadly, “so yeah, I broke in, tripped the wards and got into her room.” Hermione had the scandalized look she wore when someone cursed or broke the rules. As long as that someone wasn’t her, of course. “You don’t have to tell me how bad an idea it was, okay? I learned my lesson. She was right furious,” I smirked, “almost burned my robe off of me.”

Hermione looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be angry at Fleur for attacking me or glad that I had gotten a measure of punishment for my trespassing.

“You really do care for her, don’t you?”

I just nodded, “I do.” She looked troubled again like she wanted to say something she knew I wouldn’t like. “Why do you despise her so much, I don’t get it. It’s not like you to judge people.”

“It’s because I think she’s using you!” I rolled my eyes at her recurring accusation and decided to make her see sense.

“How exactly is she using me. She is smart and incredibly talented, she was not chosen on a fluke, she really is the best her school has to offer. She is powerful too, I have seen her conjure lasting objects from nothing on a whim and cast fire without a wand. Anything I do she can do better, so tell me, Hermione, how is she using me?”

“Don’t you see? You have already put yourself at risk, not to mention forgoing your advantage to tell her about the task.”

“Because she is a friend! How do you think I would feel if I didn’t say anything and she di-“ I bit off my retort, not wanting to voice that thought. Hermione is a clever girl there’s no doubt about that, but if she thought she was right she wouldn’t see reason unless it slapped her in the face. “Besides, she already knew about the task. I told you Maxime was with Hagrid in the forest, she told her,” I smiled, my eyes softening as I remembered her rare bashfulness, “And she said the same thing about being stupid for risking it to give up my advantage.”

“She did?”

“As I said, you and her are more alike than either of you would care to admit,” Hermione just scowled at that causing me to roll my eyes.

“Well, if she knows then we should warn Diggory and Victor too.”

“Victor?” I asked, flabbergasted. It was a testament to how consumed I had been in the tournament that I had not noticed my best friend getting in first name terms with Victor Krum.

“We have spoken a couple of times in the library,” her cheeks had a distinct tint to them.

“Sounds fair, we all should know,” I smirked one evil smirk, “Why don’t you tell ‘Victor,’ since you seem to know him, and I’ll warn Cedric”

“You are a prat. You know that, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, it’s a known fact. Ask Snape, he’ll give you a complete dissertation on the topic.”

She smiled again at this. Maybe Krum would distract her from continuing to antagonize Fleur. Maybe.

* * *

I decided I would rest for the rest of the day, It wouldn’t do for me to be dead tired at the task. So after leaving a gobsmacked Cedric standing in the courtyard, I meant to go to L’ ermitage and decompress.

“Hey, Potter!”

At the sound of that repulsive voice, my eyes rolled so hard I feared I might go blind on the spot. I had been so isolated this year that I hardly remembered Malfoy existed. Just keep walking Harry, get inside, up the stairs and-

“Don’t ignore me, Potter!”

I sidestepped and turned as I heard the distinctive crackle of a stunning spell, the flash of light flying past me, my wand was in my hand before I finished turning. Malfoy was standing there in between his two usual bookends, three wands raised against mine, barely a brain between them.

There was cheering from the onlookers hoping for a spectacle. And probably hoping to see me trashed, it was three on one after all.

It was the perfect opportunity to try something I read in Dumbledore’s books.

“Stupefy,” I whispered my wand moving in the motion for a blasting curse, my intent solely in stunning the three arseholes.

A small red ball of energy shot forward towards the floor at their feet and broke into an explosion of red tendrils, slapping the shit out of Malfoy and his goons. As soon as the red tendrils touch them they fell unconscious.

I smiled through the coming headache, that was really cool. I turned and went away as fast as I could as to not be stopped by a professor, I would probably be punished by this as the whole courtyard had seen the scuffle, but right now I just wanted to get to my room without more trouble. My vision blackened for a moment and I lost my balance, kind of in the same way that it happens when you get up to fast from a chair after having been sitting for a while. I cursed an held to the wall until the feeling passed, the amount of concentration required for twining spells was still a bit too taxing for me.

The students that came close to watch were not looking so cheerful now, luckily they decided to go with the better part of valour and scurried away from me as I hurried my way inside the castle.

“Fleeing your blonde prétendant I see,” came the mirthful voice of another blonde. Apparently, Fleur’s idea for the day was similar to mine.

“You are going to worsen my headache saying crap like that,” She laughed from where she was standing at the ‘clockface window’ of the tower.

“That was an interesting spell. Looked like a stunner at first, but stunners don’t cause that effect.”

“They do if you know how to make them,” I slumped in my pile of blankets next to the fire, “It makes your head pound like hells though.”

She walked closer and sat next to me, covering herself with the same quilt I was using, surprising me. She normally preferred to have more space for her own.

“So, you are not going to teach me?”

“Maybe some other day, today I was hoping to just lay off and rest for- well, you know.”

“Oui. I know,” she sighed, “I thought the same, but the carriage is too loud and everyone is gossiping and nosing in about last night, so I thought 'ere would be best.”

“Oh right, everyone is talking about how poor your sneaking abilities are. The whole carriage heard you and your paramour laughing last night,” I said, a tint of humour in my voice.

She huffed and tilted her chin, “People always gossip.”

“So you are always sneaking blokes into your room?”

“You are awfully close to getting a fireball again, monsieur,” she said while holding back a smile.

“Alright, alright. I won’t say a thing.”

“That’s better,” She leaned into me and rested her head in my shoulder.

I was not a cuddly person normally, courtesy of my ‘family.’ And neither was she. But today we both needed the comfort, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and closed my eyes.

“Do you have a plan for tomorrow?” I asked, my eyes still closed.

“Oui,” she said in a dainty breath, “I ‘ave it worked out. You?”

“Yeah me too.”

“I ‘ope it’s not like your usual plans,” I decided it was better not to answer that. She decided my silence merited a punch to my shoulder. 

“ ‘Arry! You are not going to jump on its back and stick your wand up its nose are you?”

I shouldn’t have told her about the troll, I thought despondently, “I’m not going to try and stick my wand in its nose.”

She punched my shoulder again, “Hey, I have a plan alright, if it goes well I won’t even get close to the dragon. You can stop punching me, you dainty boxer,” I said as I rubbed my shoulder.

She looked at me for a long moment and deciding to believe me, leaned against me again, “I’ll be quite mad if you charge mindlessly. I don’t 'ave any more friends in Britain, so I would like you to keep living. Clear?”

“I feel so appreciated.”

Fleur giggled and patted my arm, “You are, ‘Arry. You are.”

And so the rest of the day was spent relaxing in front of the fire, clearing the mind for the challenges to come.


	9. Danger Puts Things in Perspective

The sound of a thousand excited chattering voices reached my ears, even from the considerable distance that still separated me from the First Task's arena. I could feel the cold November air as it warms in my lungs with each deep breath, the way the grass gave into my weight with a crunch was as noticeable as my own legs moving, even the warmth radiating from Hermione's body as she walked beside me was obvious.

Everything was more alive, more intense. It's a shame you only feel this way when you are close to not feeling anything anymore. I shuddered.

A few minutes before I had been eating in the Great Hall, as McGonagall had informed me it was mandatory for the day of the task, when the champions were summoned to the tent next to the arena to be 'given further instructions'. I stubbornly refused to go before finished eating, so I probably was one of the last ones, either champion or public, to get there. Hermione waited to walk with me, she really is a great friend.

Further ahead, at the tent's entrance, I could see, although barely, Cedric's brown hair as he was egged on the inside by a gaggle of his admirers.

"Remember, the first thing you need to do is cast the cooling charms and the protect from fire spell, the sticking charm on the glasses, you cannot affor-"

"Mione, calm down. You are more nervous than I am." Okay maybe a little bit of a lie, but she was starting to hyperventilate.

After a bit of gesticulating she flung herself at me and hugged me for all she was worth. I returned her hug with a bit more tenderness and patted her back.

"Be careful Harry, please." She sniffed

"I'll try, I promise." By now I noticed that she was hugging me with both arms. "Hermione... Where is my broom?"

"*Sniff* Neville has it. He's in the stands already, saving me a seat." She let go off me and rubbed her eyes.

"Don't wish me luck, eh? You know how my luck is."

"Break a leg then," she smiled, "but only one."

"I'll try."

I didn't say anything else. It wasn't necessary, not between us.

After a last reassuring smile, I went inside.

* * *

The first thing I noticed inside the champions' tent was the silence. None of the rumble from outside could be heard inside. Krum was standing near the centre of the tent with his brow furrowed, as usual. Only, nerves made him look more constipated than brooding. Cedric was to the side of the fairly Spartan tent, walking and muttering to himself. He was going over spells in his mind, most likely.

The tent was littered with ministry officials, some Aurors and that Baggins bloke, or was it Bagger? No matter, I had just spotted Fleur sitting as far away from everyone else as the constraints of the tent permitted her.

As much as she would like to make the world believe she is calm and in charge, she couldn't fool me. For one she was sitting in a high chair identical to the one in L' ermitage, complete with a red and gold blanket.

"As social as ever I see," I said as I approached and sat on the floor next to her.

"Are you saying I 'ave a dirty ass, Monsieur Pot?"

"What?" I said with a blush, Fleur was not one to make that kind of comment often.

"That did not translate well," a faint dusting of red showed on her face ruining her queen-like façade, "I meant you are as social as I am."

Of course, Monsieur 'Pot'.

"We say the pot calling the kettle black, but of course, we're not decadent and barbaric as the French"

I always count it as a victory when she has to hold back a laugh.

"You learn fast," she made a gesture of dismissal, "for an English man."

"Thank you, your grace." I inclined my head, which served the added purpose of hiding my smirk.

" 'ush, plébéien." We both chuckled at the ridiculousness and the levity of the moment, something we both dearly needed.

A flash of white light then engulfed my vision, I rolled to a crouch and drew my wand. I could feel Fleur move next to me and the shimmer of a shield form in front of me. My vision came back and in front of us was... a camera? I blinked the spots from my eyes, blonde hair, green tacky dress, oh Gods damn it. The weird reporter from the other day.

"Oh my, what a pretty, pretty picture. What a story must it have." Even this woman's voice was creepy, as if she would pounce on us. "You simply need to tell me. You wouldn't be one to keep... Secrets, eh Miss Delacour?"

"Rita, sorry but we need the champions, we're about to give the instructions. The interview will have to wait, hope you don't mind."

We were so focused on this 'Rita' and she on us that we didn't notice Baggins approaching. Or calling out apparently.

"Of course not Ludo, dear. Maybe the story will get even better with a bit of... Maturation. It's fine really..." She said with a forced smile that said it was anything but, and walked out with more drama than was necessary.

"Well then; Miss Delacour, Mr Potter, come with me and you'll get your instructions.

* * *

A few minutes later I stood with an angry little dragon in my hand, wearing a small collar with a number four puffing red-black fire from time to time and trying to look menacing. It was cute really.

So, gather the golden egg. They managed to make a dangerous situation even worse.

For all the nerves I had up until now, I was feeling pretty good at the moment. Focused.

After bouncing Baggman told us about the task Krum and Cedric returned to their musings and Fleur, whose dragon was wearing a number one, threw a mournful look at her chair and stood straight, facing the exit. I noticed her hands were shaking slightly.

"Try not to win with too much margin, okay? I'd prefer not to be embarrassed at the first event."

She smiled in a way that I could not entirely decipher. Grateful, maybe.

"Oh, I don't know. I am quite looking forward to free chocolates at le village.

"Then go earn them." I managed to say before the start cannon fired, signalling the beginning of the event; and sharpening into focus, Fleur got out the tent.

The wait was excruciating, whatever magic kept the tent silent didn't change with the start of the task. Some fifteen minutes passed in an eternity of time before a second boom summoned Cedric to the exit of the tent, leaving just Krum and me waiting. I chose to sit in Fleur's chair since she had forgotten to dispel it, and frankly, it probably brought me the same comfort in its familiarity as it did her.

Sometime later it was Krum's turn, neither Cedric nor Fleur had come back to the tent. It probably was a good sign that neither came back, they probably were sent elsewhere.

The cannon went boom again, like the gavel of a judge. I let out a breath, nothing for it now.

I stepped outside to the thunderous sound of an excited crowd. After the silence of the tent, it felt like an explosion.

As soon as I stepped out I discretely cast a sticking charm on my glasses, Hermione had remarked in its importance enough for me to forget it. And as my eyes grew accustomed to the light I was glad that I didn't forget to do it.

The enclosure looked like a giant had decided to carve a toy coliseum from the very floor; it was circular and rough, the dirt on the floor looked like a herd of bulls had stampeded around while pulling a plough.

Parts of it looked like they had crystallised into a shiny black rock, and the gouges on the floor were as deep as the length of my leg. Huge boulders, the lesser of which was taller and broader than me, peppered the arena; and in the centre of all this lay the dragon.

If it weren't for the fact that it was so damn massive it would have been hard to distinguish it from the black boulders and the molten floor. Its scales were an absolute black that didn't even reflect the, admittedly poor, sunlight.

Steam rose from its body and the cold air distorted around it, bending to is heat. There was no doubt why dragons were so feared, it's power could be felt. Deep in my gut, in my bones, I could feel the thrum of eldritch power, like the feeling when I first held a wand and felt the rush of magic but a hundred times stronger.

Curled as it was, it wasn't easy to tell much detail from its form; Its head was the only thing I could see clearly for it was facing me, it was scaleless but looked as strong as if it was made from steel, it was about as long as I was tall and then it extended smoothly to four straight horns on each side, creating a natural crown.

The only bit of colour it had was in its eyes. Two smouldering red pits that glowed with enough intensity that it was noticeable from a distance and, as its tail swung behind it, a metallic bronze glint at the tip of it. Horntail indeed.

"Accio," I murmured as I raised my wand to the air. The dragon, apparently, took offence to this, and almost as quick as I could perceive it unfurled with a step forward and spat a column of red-black fire with the sound of a jet and a car crash.

I threw myself behind the closest boulder all the while cursing everything and thanking quidditch training. Even protected by the stone the heat was unbearable, the fire had enough power that it pushed against the stone as if it was a current of water and tongues of flame and molten stone swirled and splattered around it. My sweat evaporated as soon as it appeared.

I hurriedly cast the flame retardant charms and the freezing charms I had found on myself and then cast them again. I still felt as if I was dying inside a stew pot, even if I was now steaming from the difference in temperature. Then over the awful screeching of the dragon I heard the swish of am an incoming broom, and with a skill honed from a thousand hours I jumped in its path and flew away and out of reach from the column of fire.

The rush of fresh, cold air was wonderful and invigorating after the infernal heat of that hellish creature. From the vantage point I had gained I could see the whole arena, but no clutch of eggs, and judging by the reluctance of the dragon to fly in pursuit they were likely below it (her?)

Now in the air I stowed away my wand and flew as fast as I could towards the dragon before swerving past, baiting it. My speed was too great for it to easily swat me away and it was making it grow visibly irritated, but it didn't look as if it would move from atop the eggs. And so I kept swirling around it, weaving between its head and it's tail, flying close enough to reach and touch it and then away, tempting it to follow.

It was a mistake to believe the dragon to be a stupid, brutal beast. Only the sudden smell of sulfur and a sound like two rocks hitting each other warned me to the explosion of fire that rose in my path. I reversed directions so suddenly that I felt like my stomach kept going forward without me, and as I turned I was faced with a clawed, gigantic paw that I barely manage to avoid.

I could not keep this up for too long, the dragon was too fast, had too many appendages and its fire could change direction way too swiftly. It was like flying against ten of Dobby's killer bludgers solely focused on me.

I dove to the floor, spinning out of the way of a cone of fire and saw the eggs. The dragon had risen enough that I could fly between the floor and it's belly and get the sodding egg. I was focused solely on the gold glint of it, so much that I failed to see the bronze spike heading my way.

My wand was in my hand in an instant, the words for a solid shield on my lips. The tail of a dragon hit the shield with a mighty gong and I heard my left arm snap, the air was driven from my gut as I flew backwards, away from my broken, pierced shield that remained floating where I cast it as inertia took my broom into a roaring inferno.

The landing felt as bad as the take-off and left me gasping for air and with black spots flying in my vision. The good news? I don't think I broke anything else and my sticking charm held, so I was not blind. The mixed news? I had landed fucking far away from the dragon, which probably saved my life but now I had to get close again. The bad news? My arm hurt like no one's business. At least it wasn't bent.

In a moment of brilliance, I thought to wrap my sleeve tight (fucking ouch) and transfigure it to wood. Improvised splint, check.

I would need to fly a lot faster if I wan- my broom. My broom kept going forwards after I fell. Into the fire. Sirius broom, gone. Not even ashes left.

A flare of rage hotter than any fire the dragon could produce hit me, and with a scream, I started to throw blasting curses; my wand moving like a conductor's baton, a symphony of destruction.

The orange balls of energy exploded against the dragon without any obvious effect apart from some surprise from it. The crowd was roaring as much as the dragon now, and I was getting frustrated.

With a hiss the blasting curses gave way to bone withering curses; and in between flashes of purple, scales started to fall.

The roar of pain from the dragon drowned every other sound and with a mighty pull, the chains holding it snapped as it lunged at me. A quick ascendio saved my hide as the beast landed where I had been and swiftly turned to face me, I pushed everything I could into a banisher and one of the huge boulders flew, striking it in the head and staggering it. A second boulder hit it in the side and made it fall prostrate in the middle of spewing a bout of flames.

With the sudden light of Dragonfire came a glint of gold, and riding on instinct as I was my eyes couldn't help but stray towards it. The eggs! The clutch was unprotected and the fake egg was there for the taking.

I looked back towards the dragon and saw that it was almost on its feet again, I would not have another chance to end this. With a small prayer to the Goddess of wisdom, I intoned the words to the most taxing spell I had ever tried to cast.

"Kyton Carceri," I murmured with the utmost focus I could manage. The magic took hold and I felt like Atlas, a violet swirl of energy took form over the dragon, and tendrils of it shot to the ground burrowing deep. In seconds the dragon was pinned to the ground under an ever tensing net of violet chains.

I took the fact that I was not dead or unconscious as a victory, though I did not know for how long that would remain true. Every time it tried to escape I could feel each push and each pull on every fibre of my body. Every time it breathed fire on the ethereal chains I felt as if my arms would melt off.

I started towards the eggs without laying my gaze off the struggling mother, my wand arm shaking with the effort of keeping up such spell, step after small step, and when I finally got there I hugged the golden prize to myself as best I could with my splinted arm.

A dozen or so wizards entered the arena at that moment and casting something simultaneously at the dragon several times, managed to knock it unconscious.

I let go of the spell and fell on my arse as if the rope on a tug of war had snapped. Huge black spots danced on my eyes and my legs didn't feel solid at all, but with effort, I managed to get up and then Ron was holding me upright and saying something I could not hear over the sound of my own blood in my ears. No, not Ron. Ron is a gangly bastard, maybe his brother? The dragon handler? I could not focus enough to remember his name.

He helped me towards the tent where I was before the task, I went stumbling the whole way.

When we got there I realized it was a different tent, this one looked like the hospital wing and smelled the part, too. I was getting my bearings back, the sound of blood no longer rushing through my ears and I could stand a bit better without leaning so much on... Charley? Yes, Charley was his name.

"Hey thanks, mate," I said, trying to stand on my own and stumbling a bit.

"You better sit. eh, Harry? That was some show you put out there. I don't know how you are still standing." He guided me to a bed

"Barely, that's how," I muttered as everything started spinning when I sat. "I think I'm going to barf."

"Then get on with it, if you throw up the potions they won't work." If there was ever a voice I could distinguish in any state of consciousness it was Madame Pomfrey's.

"I should have known the task was not over yet," I laid back against the bed head despite myself as the world kept spinning out of control.

"Opinionated as ever Mr Potter, drink this and stop complaining." She said with the suppressed amusement I had learned to pick up from her.

I knew from my ample experience that complaining would serve no purpose, so I gulped down the two phials I was handed. The world ceases it's crazy twirling almost immediately and I felt a bit better. At least I didn't feel like I was going to fall asleep on the spot. At one point Charlie walked out without me noticing it.

"What did you do to your arm Mr Potter?" She said, her wand tracing familiar patterns over it.

"I broke it, I think. I transfigured my robe into wood to splint it." It truly looked strange, the way the fabric turned where I tightened and then flowed into a cast made of wood that looked suspiciously similar to my wand's.

Pomfrey let out an exasperated breath I was all too familiar with and vanished the cast before, with a mere gesture from her wand and a soft snap, mending my arm.

"It was a clean break, the best you could hope for considering what struck you."

"It struck my shield, not me. I still felt the strike thought, only on my arm weirdly enough," I flexed my fingers as I examined said arm.

"You should read your spell books more carefully Mr Potter, not all shields disperse the energy in the same way."

"So I'm probably going to get a lecture from Hermione then."

"A well deserved one." She pursed her lips

"I thought I was going to get a lecture from you too.

"Honestly, it would be pointless. I have accepted the fact that you'll always be under my care." She said as she suppressed a smile.

"How sweet, Poppy." People often thought strange that I was so familiar with Madame Pomfrey, but after all the time I had spent under her care, it shouldn't be surprising.

"Appart from your, now fixed, arm you are only suffering a case of exhaustion and some bruising on the back. Nothing a good night's sleep and a warm meal can't heal. The invigorating draught you drank will help but don't overextend yourself, it is only borrowed energy after the effects fade you'll crash again."

"So... Get to my bed and sleep?"

"Basically, yes. You need to get to the arena to get your scores and then go out through the other tent. After that go and get some rest, if I see you in the hospital wing again in the next month I'll make you regret it, Mister." She wagged her finger at me, one hand on her hip.

"You got it, Poppy. Thanks for everything." I got out the bed, only slightly dizzy now. My fixed arm was a bit sore and my back was starting to sting but overall I was not feeling too down. Pomfrey grumbled something about dragons and some part of Dumbledore's Anatomy as I got out of the tent.

* * *

The arena was mercifully free of fire breathing creatures when I got out, but I couldn't help flinching to the sudden sound of the crowd. The medical tent was silenced too apparently.

I walked towards where the judges had their table set up. Bagman raised his wand and a 10 exploded from it, confetti and all. What an excitable fella. Mr Crouch gave me a 5, claiming the use of questionable and banned spells and earning a loud booing from the crowd. Maxime gave me an 8 looking like it pained her to do so. Karkarof gave me a 7 also looking reluctant.

Dumbledore looked at me in between worry and pride and gave me a 10 'For mastering spells well beyond what most wizards could wield, in a situation where it would be difficult to keep a calm mind.'

I think he forgot I wasn't competing for Hogwarts.

A total of 40 points, that should be enough to get fir-

"With forty points, Harry Potter, representative of house Potter claims second place!"

Well, sod. Wonder who got first place.

It was in this distracted state that I entered the champions' tent again and almost found myself on the floor from a resounding slap. Immediately after I was in a crushing hug, my mouth full of golden hair.

"You told me you 'ad a plan, you.. you inbécile!"

"I didn't say it was a good plan." I returned the hug hesitantly.

"You owe me all the chocolate in the hog's villagé." That made me chuckle, and she hit me in the back of the head without breaking the hug.

"Ow. You really need to stop hitting me before I get a concussion. You are way too strong for someone so thin."

"This thin and delicate girl is in first place." She said pulling away enough to look me in the eyes. Or more likely, to allow me a glance at her smug expression.

"How many points?"

"Forty-two." That smug smile again.

"Damn. I almost got you."

"Almost, Monsieur, is not enough."

"You are so proud," I said as we started walking towards the exit.

She bumped my shoulder, "You say it like you don't like that."

I looked at her as she walked beside me, looking happier and more relaxed than I had seen her, hair shiny as it bounced even in the low light of the tent. I felt my expression soften and could only think one thing: I was in trouble. Big trouble.

"It is more endearing than it should," I said, now knowing exactly why that was.


	10. Broken Things

By the time I got to the courtyard, I was about to drop snoring on the ground. Thankfully Fleur took her job at keeping me awake with delight; her elbows are damn sharp, but her delighted laugh each time she poked me to awareness was worth the inconvenience.

So I was really surprised to find Ron and Hermione just at the castle's entrance, apparently waiting for me. Hermione, I kind of expected, earlier, even. But Ron, Ron I was not expecting at all.

I will not lie, the git has been on my mind a lot since I stopped speaking with him but you'll forgive me if today he escaped my thoughts, they were pretty full of dragon-fire and glinting gold.

Right now I don't have the energy to deal with this. I felt Fleur stiffen against me where I was leaning into her. I had told her about Ron, not much but she knew the core of the matter; and I dare say she was as offended on my behalf as I was myself.

"Hi mate, I-"

"I would think 'mate' is pushing it, Ron," he flinched at my rebuke, as tired as the delivery was.

"Look, Harry, just let me say my piece. I won't bother you anymore after that." Hermione was standing a bit behind him, trying to be unobtrusive and bothering her lip while glancing alternatively from Fleur to me.

"Alright, start spewing." Because that's the only thing that comes out of your mouth, I didn't add. I'm a paragon of self-control and politeness.

"I wanted to say… I mean I- Well, you know sorry, mate," he ran his hand through the back of his head while looking at his feet, " I was being a right bastard, I spoke from anger and I shouldn't have."

"Never the less, even if said in anger you said what you felt and what you believed. You spoke without regard for the one you call your best friend, and not even to 'is face." Said Fleur in the most frigid tone she could manage. Ron seemed to wilt under it, and I felt a swell of affection at her defence of me.

"Maybe, but it's not all I felt. I am resentful I couldn't enter the tournament, yes, but I know that the tournament is not really what I want. I just want recognition, I want for people to look at me and say 'Oh look! That's Ron,' not 'One of the Weasley, maybe' or 'Potter's friend.' But I was a right prat, and turned on the only person that actually thought highly of me." He let a long-suffering sigh, "Merlin's soggy bollocks, you know I'm pants at this type of mushy talk; but mate, I know you better than I know Ginny or the Twins, and they are my brothers! What I mean to say is that I miss you mate."

I didn't know how to react, I didn't know how to feel about this. I didn't know how I felt about anything, really; and it must have shown, for with a resigned sigh he marched on.

"I have a lot of brothers it's true, and maybe that's why I don't put as much value in family as you or Hermione, but I've only ever had two friends. I'm sorry mate, I know that we may not be as we were, Hermione warned me already and she has a lot more brains than me, but I just needed to tell you this. I still think you are my best mate, I really miss you, and I'm sorry it took you almost dying without having me there to help for me to put my head out of my arse."

With this he turned and went away, head held down and dragging his feet.

Hermione looked panicked for a moment, now looking between Ron and me. She then looked at Fleur, who nodded at her, and Hermione went after Ron.

Fleur for her part started pulling at me to make me start walking again, and I barely remember getting to L'ermitage and crashing into the pile of blankets that dubbed as my bed before oblivion took me.

* * *

You know that feeling you can get sometimes where you are suddenly falling and then wake up? It's a lot worse when you genuinely are falling and the floor wakes you up.

Even if I had wanted, I could not react with anything more than a groan, and then try and turn onto my back. Fleur's giggles were enough to put me at ease that I was not in any real danger.

"What happened?" I asked still a bit groggy.

"You fell, you silly."

"No Duh, I mean where did I fell from? I sleep on the floor." I believed that to be a good question.

"Since you were so tired, I thought I would transfigure your pile of blankets into a proper bed. You slept too much though, and the transfiguration wore out." she flicked her hair behind her shoulder, ridding herself of any guilt for my fall with a gesture.

I sat leaning back on my hands, feeling like I had a bull tap dance on my… well, on me. Fleur was sitting on her customary chair a steaming cup held in her hands. "I feel like dragon dung. I almost became dragon dung."

She frowned at me, "I don't find that as funny as you seem to think."

"Sorry," I said, properly admonished by her tone of voice, "Force of habit, I guess." Between Fleur and Hermione, I was going to have to be more careful with the comments about almost dying. It felt kind of nice to finally have someone be off-putted by that, and it shouldn't be.

"Is that tea?" I gestured towards her mug trying to cut the awkward silence left by my joke. For some reason this caused her cheeks to tint slightly and straighten in her chair.

"Yes?" She said drawing the word out, sounding completely unconvincing.

"You are pretty secretive about the things you like, like that book the other day, or this." At my, apparently unexpected, observation she outright blushed.

She looked between the mug in her hands and me, all the while biting her lip and a look of deliberation taking over her features.

"J'ai un penchant pour les sucreries." She let out suddenly in the same manner one would blurt out an accidental murder confession.

"Moi non parler français." I said slowly and unsure of the words.

"Obviously," she said while holding back a laugh. "I said I like sweets."

"How is that weird?"

"You don't understand," she said all the while getting more and more flustered, "It's like I really, really like sweets. More than it's acceptable."

"So... You have a sweet tooth? What does it matter?"

She looked at me incredulously "It's indigne! I mean undignified! I'm not a child!"

I could stop my laughter, I truly couldn't. The look of Fleur's regal face so red and embarrassed because of something so trivial was just too much. My sides which were already sore were now aching painfully.

"Don't laugh! It's not funny! It's very personal."

"Sorry," I said while trying to contain my laughter, "It's not a big deal Fleur, it's normal. Lots of people have a sweet tooth."

"It's just... I'm not used to sharing personal things. I always 'ave to look competent or be dismissed, and eating sweets like that makes me look childish."

"You don't have to hide those things with me, I know how capable you are. But I think I get it, I've had to ask for help from the faculty several times and they haven't taken me seriously because what can a little kid know, right? Well, a lot it seems, since every time I was right."

"Exactly. They always see the petite and ... cute?" she said, trying the unfamiliar word, "blonde that can't do anything too strenuous, it's frustrating. If I don't act totally in control one 'undred per cent of the time I get treated as a child at best. And people never forget when you make a mistake, no sir."

She was working herself into a propper rage in her indignation, so I tried to steer the conversation away of others expectations.

"Say... What's in the mug?" I couldn't keep the teasing out my voice.

" 'ot chocolate, perfect for this accursed weather." Well, she's right on that, despite the fire burning at the centre the clock tower was pretty cold. Mostly because of the drafts. I just then noticed it was dark outside.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A few 'ours. It's nearly dinner time." At the mention of dinner, I felt suddenly faint. Funny how you don't feel the hunger until you realize that you actually are hungry

"I'm starving. We should..." I trailed off remembering Ron's earlier apologies. I certainly didn't want to deal with that right now. "I think I'll go to the kitchens."

"Why not the feast room?" She must have read the answer from my face, for she wrinkled her nose, "You should stop avoiding your former friends."

"I thought you said I should forget about them." I said bitterness seeping into my voice, "Now you want me to forgive him?"

"I didn't say you should forget about them, nor am I saying you should forgive 'im. I would not if I were in your shoes, but we're not the same person. What I'm saying is you should stop avoiding them."

I closed my eyes and sighed, "I just want to eat some thick stew and forget everything."

"You are such a simple creature," lamented Fleur, "let's get something to eat then."

* * *

After Fleur stopped giggling in tandem with the fruit painting that guarded the kitchens, we got in only to be promptly harassed by an exited Dobby. Apparently, he stayed as a Hogwarts elf after I freed him.

It struck me as strange since he detested being bound to the Malfoy family, then again, maybe the problem was the Malfoys themselves. I wouldn't have thought Dumbledore would be amenable to enslaving a newly freed elf either, but Dobby seemed happy and that was enough for now.

As bad as my French was, Dobby's was worse, and so the newly dubbed Flour and I found ourselves on a small coffee table with enough food piled on it that I am actually guessing when I say the table is round.

We didn't chat too much at first, mostly because I was eating like I hadn't in a week. That chaining spell was extremely draining, I still can't believe I manage to actually hold the Dragon. My body felt as if I had actually wrestled the dragon myself though.

"What did you do in your task? You don't look half as tired as I feel."

"That's because, unlike you, I 'ad a sane plan." I winced, "I used a charm that produces a cloud of stinking gas and then disillusioned myself. It took 5 minutes for the dragon to move enough for me to take the egg and walk out."

"So you just... Walked up to it?"

"Oui."

"I'm feeling pretty stupid right now."

"I think you are too used to danger. You shouldn't use force as a first option, even if you have more than enough for it. Where did you even learn a spell that can imprison a Dragon?"

"In a book." I said too quickly, "and to be fair, I'm no good at subtle or overly complex spells. They just... Fail?"

"Dispel," Fleur corrected, "Yet you can pummel a huge monster with rocks bigger than you and hold it in a net that somehow didn't melt under Dragonfire."

I answered her sceptical expression with an honest shrug, as my mouth was full of roasted chicken.

She let out a long sigh, "I'm lucky my 'air is so pale, otherwise I fear it would go white just by being your friend."

"Shouldn't it go white faster if it's already so light?"

She looked at me fondly, "as I said, we are not normal people, 'arry."

I just shrugged again, it's not like I can refute that. "The best people aren't."

She smiled which such brilliance that it dazed me and I turned to the piece of chicken in my hand just to avoid her eyes.

She didn't seem to notice my lapse, and so we continued our meal in each others company. It's amazing how I have gotten used to Fleur just being... there. Even if silent.

"Thank you though," I said, a bit out of nowhere.

"What for?"

"For supporting me with ron earlier."

"I only said the truth. No one says something without meaning it unless they are lying, and even then they only mean the opposite of what they say." She smiled, her eyes softening, "Besides, you did not look as if you were going to answer."

"I just don't know how I feel about all this. And I was pretty out of it too, were it not for you I wouldn't have made it back to the castle."

"That is what you get for playing with 'igh level, obscure spells like those. I still cannot believe you can cast spells like those."

"Jealous?"

She squirmed in her chair trying to keep her proud composure and lifted her chin higher, "Maybe."

I smiled widely at this. coming from Fleur that was high praise.

"Don't let it get to your 'ead." She said with humour in her voice.

"Of course not. maybe a bit." We both chuckled at this, "Don't worry Fleur, you are still a lot cleverer than me. Your solution was so much more elegant."

"I am so much more elegant."

We both burst out laughing.

I would have to face the world eventually, Fleur it's right. And I would have to deal with Ron too, and with all the unprocessed bullshite I was feeling about it, but I would do it later.

For now, I would bask in this companionship, with this kind, proud and talented woman who was unabashedly drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows with abnormal enthusiasm. The world will just have to wait.

* * *

Turns out the world doesn't really wait, it just starts without you.

I had the grand idea to start walking around without the cover of the cloak because let's be honest, Fleur is right, it can't be entirely healthy to hide away from everyone.

Of course, she failed to see the irony in her having a Disillusionment Charm as good as she does.

The first place I had to go was; surprise, surprise, the hospital wing. Why? Because I, like the daft idiot I am, left my golden egg in the medical tent after the task.

Thankfully, Poppy knew I was going to get it; otherwise, I would not have survived entering her lair so soon after she treated me. Especially as she ordered me to rest.

"I'm surprised you even remembered it so soon. I would have expected you to forget until a couple of days before the second task."

"Your confidence in me is inspiring, Poppy." To be fair I just realized as she said it that I don't know _when_ is the second task. I was really out of it yesterday, guess I'll have to ask Fleur. Or maybe Hermione, since Fleur won't stop teasing me if I tell her I forgot that.

Pomfrey smiled as if she, by some means, knew my thoughts.

"It's based on past observations, Mr Potter. Now run along, you have a mystery to solve and I have a ward to care for."

I saluted, which caused her stern façade to crack a bit, and left the ward.

Next stop, the Great Hall. People kept looking at me in a strange manner and skittering away from me, but I paid them no mind. I was holding a big, shiny dragon egg under my arm; they likely thought it would hatch and eat them or something like that.

It's quite funny really. I couldn't help but smirk when I remembered the time in first year when we snuck Norbert out of the castle. Those were simpler times, when our adventures didn't have as much importance. My smile faltered, maybe I would have my friends with me again after this.

When I got to the Great Hall the Gryffindor table exploded into cheers, with people shouting my name and generally being rambunctious. I had to admit, that felt good. The rest of the houses were more circumspect, especially the Hufflepuffs. But as I glanced towards them and saw a waving hand from a heavily bandaged Cedric, I could see far less hostile faces than before.

I scanned my house table searching for two particular faces, it was harder than normal thanks to the extra faces from some of the beauxbatons and the general rowdiness of my housemates.

Of course, it wasn't that hard either. Those two had particularly recognizable heads. And they were sitting together, perfect.

Of the whole Gryffindor ensemble, only those two faces were not cheerful, but rather anxious. A pit formed in my stomach.

Come on Potter, march on. It's only Hermione... and Ron. Sodding hells. There's nothing to it now, you already started towards them, now you can't back down.

Or can't I? No! You can't just turn around while the whole Great Hall is watching. But why not? I mean-

"Mr Potter, a moment please."

"Motherfu-!" I managed to bite my tongue at the exact moment I saw McGonagall's raised eyebrow.

"I would suggest you don't finish that thought."

"Ahem, of course, professor." Gods damnit if I wasn't distracted. Though to be fair, if someone was able to sneak on me it would be someone who can turn into a cat at will.

"If you could come with me, there is something I need to inform you about before you disappear into the castle again."

I blushed a bit at that, "Sure, could I just say something quickly to Hermione?"

"Go ahead then, I'll wait for you outside the Hall."

I let out a breath as McGonagall walked away from me, she scared the everliving... well she scared me. Enough to distract my feelings from the task at hand for a minute, unfortunately, my nerves came as she went.

Hermione watched me approach biting her lip in the way she does when nervous, Ron, on the other hand, looked at me like I was Aragog's son in for revenge.

"Hey, guys." A master wordsmith, I am. "Er, look I just, I mean we- I think we should talk. on the common room maybe? It should be empty now." I was getting curious glances, but the general noise of the table made it so that I don't think anyone else would have understood my words.

Hermione took one look at the panic-stricken face of her frozen comrade and nodded at me, pushing him to get him to stand, "Let's go then, Harry."

"Right now?!" Ah, Ron is starting to catch up I see. I can hardly blame him though, not when my legs are wanting to bolt from this situation and not look back, "but, but dinner!"

"I think that's the point, Ronald, honestly." My lips twitched at tiny Hermione berating the gangly tower that was Ronald Weasley, especially since it worked. It's only funny if you are not on the receiving end of it though.

"Actually, McGonagall wanted to speak with me about something just now. Sooo... maybe it'll have to wait a bit." saved by the Mcbell, maybe?

"We'll go with you and after you are done we can go to the common room."

Ron opened his mouth, probably to protest, but one look to Hermione and the way her hands were still on her hips made him change his mind.

I turned towards the Ravenclaw table, looking for that small smile that never failed to lift my spirits. She wasn't there, neither was she at the Gryffindor table.

And I was the reclusive one, I thought warmly.

They gathered their things and, for the first time in almost a month, the three of us left the Great Hall together.

McGonagall was waiting just outside, her stern face a contrast to her tartan robes. Maybe dressing in an extravagant manner was a requirement for powerful sorcerers.

"Mr Potter," she looked at Ron and Hermione and let a long suffering sigh, "I was supposed to tell only you, but since I don't doubt you'll tell them anyway... Besides, it's better to just tell you all and avoid giving you three excuses to 'investigate'" at this she shuddered.

"What is wrong, professor?" My heart was starting to beat harder, waiting for the bad news.

"Nothing is wrong, Mr Potter. I just have to inform you of one of the traditions to be observed during the tournament. As I said before the official reveal is a few days out, but since you have gotten in the habit of skipping all your lessons and sleeping outside the tower I thought it best to tell you first chance I got."

I just counted myself lucky I wasn't getting punished for sleeping at l'Ermitage. It would be worth it though, if only because it lacks snores of any kind except my own.

"There is to be a ball at Yule in celebration of this sacred date and as a way to honour the champions of each institution. You, as a champion, are required to attend; since the champions and their partners will perform the opening dance."

"Partners?!"

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at this, "Well it would look quite strange for you to dance on your own, Mr Potter."

"Dance?!"

At my exclamation she pursed her lips, "It is called Yule Ball, Mr Potter; what else did you expect If you require lessons I will be holding those at certain dates. When I know them I will put them at the notice board in the common room."

Then she nodded at 'Mr Weasley' and 'Miss Granger', turned on her heels and left. Just like that.

I sighted mentally and pinched the bridge of my nose, another problem to add to the list.

"Let's get going, while dinner is still on." At least you could count on Hermione to keep a level head.

There are situations when silence is the most terrible thing there can be. When it feels like breaking the silence will result in dire consequences.

I'm quite familiar with such moments, they were quite common at the Dursleys where every wrong word, every careless notice could be met with a harsh punishment or unkind words.

I've never felt like this around Ron and Hermione and it made it all the worse for it.

We kept trowing looks to each other, gauging the other's mood. All the while the common room mocked us with its cosiness, the fire cracking happily in the hearth.

"So, er... yes. I wanted to speak with you. With Ron. Well, both of you..." this was damn hard. "The thing is-"

"I am really sorry mate, I meant it before. I've been miserable these last months, and it's because we haven't been friends. I miss you a lot, I-" Ron huffed "I should have known that being cross with you would hurt me as much as it would hurt you."

My eyes were starting to sting, "Come here, you lanky git." I opened my arms and Ron, who was my brother in all but blood, hugged me as if I was going to disappear.

"You stupid boys," came the suspiciously shaky voice of Hermione before she joined the hug.

And we were one again.

"I thought you wouldn't forgive me."

"How could you think that?"

"Because I know how much it hurt." Ron, who was as loudmouthed and outspoken as the rest of his family, sounded now as broken as I've ever heard him.

"How could I not forgive you, when I know you were hurting in the same way. We were stupid the both of us, and if I hadn't let my pride rule me I would have listened to Hermione sooner. It took a lot of time to process my bullshite after all."

"Tell me about it," said Ron as we extricated ourselves from Hermione overzealous arms. His eyes were suspiciously red but I didn't comment, and neither did he say anything about mine.

"But we are now good again, and that's what matters. Things have changed, yes, but there's always a place for you. You were my first ever friend."

The smiles that met my words, from both of them, were worth any amount of fear and anxiety I may have gone through.


	11. If No One Is Right, Does It Matter What You Think?

The next week was... Strange. Turns out the reason people kept shying away from me wasn't the dragon egg as I first thought. It was the newspapers.

As Cedric accurately predicted, the creepy reporter from the weighting of the wands was one to hold a grudge and the front page I denied her that day she made up the day after the task in spades.

Several articles made the Daily Prophet over the next days, all in what I came to know as her very particular style of writing, and all of them casting doubt over my actions on the First Task, and in retrospect, I did fly of the broom handle a bit.

And just thinking of brooms got me sad...

But anyways, according to that bitch Skeeter, the way I handled myself was more akin to a deranged criminal than a proper champion of this 'great nation.' Of course the point was driven home by the nicely framed picture of my irate face while I threw around curses that could turn bones into shrapnel.

This was her hook though, that particular spell. After all, no one could blame an innocent 'Twelve year old,' the blame rested upon his mentors, and it was a well known fact that Albus Dumbledore fills that role in the life of the boy who lived. And Dumbledore already has several colourful nicknames given to him by her poisonous quill on her regular column too.

And what a coincidence that that particular spell hasn't been seen since the reign of terror of the self proclaimed 'Guide of the Wizardkind,' Gellert Grindelwald.

Several spells with similar effects exist, yes. But the sickly bright purple of this spell came to be feared during the Great Wizarding War as much as the unforgivables, and it came to be one of the signature spells of Grindelwald himself. Or so she wrote.

The only other wizard that was known to cast it was Dumbledore, during the famed duel in which he managed to subdue the Crazed Tyrant.

And so she turned towards the questions of how did a student of Hogwarts learned a spell so dark and dangerous? the signature spell of the most terrible Dark Lord to ever set foot in Europe no less. The answer was of course the senile Headmaster, the only other person to be known to have cast it before.

She used all that she had written previously on Dumbledore's strangeness, on his eccentricity and his more questionable decisions to paint a pretty messed up picture of me.

It was really well made. Her stories and assumptions were exaggerated, yes; but they put a seed of doubt on the minds of the general public. I could not blame them to be afraid of me to be honest, not with how unapproachable I had been since my introduction to the magical community.

And now, after getting into a contest for power and glory and basically going into seclusion for a month I come casting that kind of spell.

It did look pretty bad.

Hermione kept pestering me and asking me where I got the spell and I was running out of excuses. It was getting to be irritating, but I couldn't bring myself to be mad over it. She's just worried.

I didn't want to share Dumbledore's journal though. It didn't feel right somehow.

After our talk at the kitchens Fleur didn't ask about the spells again. We had a kind of unspoken agreement about the tournament, we don't talk about the tournament. At least not more than necessary, we are competing against eachother after all.

But I myself was worried. I knew Skeeter was just trying to besmirch my name, but what if she wasn't entirely wrong? What if-

"I can see there is something on your mind, my boy."

Dumbledore's voice shook me from my internal reverie as I opened the door to his office.

"Yes, sir. I... Well I wanted to speak to you I guess, if you are not too busy."

"I am never too busy for a student that needs council, please take a seat." He said pointing towards the plain chair in front of his desk.

With a cheeky smile and a whispered word I transfigured it into a purple and blue eccentricity that made Dumbledore smile with pride.

"I see you have made time for more than the combat oriented magic." He said as I sat, his eyes twinkling.

"Not much, to be honest. But that old book of you-" he fixed me with a stare that clearly told me to stop talking, "I mean my old book that you found?" I trailed off at this. I'm really bad at improvising lies.

"You mean the old diary of your father's friend? What was his name... Percival, yes."

Right, Percival. An advantage of having many names I guess.

"Right, yes. Percival's diary. It's full of so many interesting things, it's a shame I have to focus only on fighting."

"Hopefully you will have many years to study all the nuances of Percival, many as they are. Though I do have to tell you, I'm really proud, my boy. Mastering those spells you used on the task is a feat in and out of itself, especially in the short time you did."

"I don't believe 'mastered' is quite right. I still feel like I was run over by a train. And the shield I used was not quite appropriate, my arm broke when the dragon hit it."

"That chaining spell always makes you a little sore after, yes." I looked incredulously at Dumbledore, sore was an understatement. "As for the shield, I happen to be familiar with it, and if it had been cast anything less than perfectly you would have had a lot more to worry about than a broken arm. You have to remember, my boy, you stopped a tail strike from an dragon intending to kill, not the mere spear or sword it was meant to stop."

"I really should read the whole section of the spells, not only the casting instructions." I ruffled my hair.

"Indeed. Despite this, you used the tools you had to great effect against long odds. That was what the task was about."

A small smile found its way into my lips at the praise. Coming from a wizard of Dumbledore's caliber it was really flattering.

Of course I then remembered the reason I had come to see the headmaster and my smile withered.

"But I see in your face you didn't come here for praise, Mr Potter."

"No, I... I wanted to talk to you about the book. And the papers." Dumbledore's gaze softened at this. "I mean, they are not wrong. I did use really dangerous spells, that curse is easily capable of killing someone, in a really painful way too. And then the thing about Grindelwald, is it true? Was this to him like the killing curse was to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore looked at me over the top of his steepled fingers and closed his eyes for a moment, "Yes, that curse in particular was favoured by Grindelwald; and yes, Mr Potter, I am the only other wizard that knows how to cast it. Until you at least."

The only time I ever needed Dumbledore to be his normal self and give me a roundabout philosophical answer and he gives it to me straight. I really tried to not let the comments get to me, but being called a crazed murderer in training, being accused of becoming like one of those fuckers that destroyed my life and the life of so many people like me... My clenched fists were shaking in aanger, in shame, maybe regret? My feelings were a jumbled mess.

Dumbledore let out a sigh as he turned his head towards the window, "I have to confess, Harry, that I hoped you would never have to learn such spells. I did what I could do that you would be able to live a normal life, and for a time I deluded myself in the belief that I had succeeded. Alas, the fates are cruel to us mere mortals." His face was sad and his sight focused on a distant memory, "They are wrong, my boy. An artisan is not it's tools. People will always be scared of the unknown, and there will always be people like Miss Skeeter who twist the truth to their advantage. I should know, I've been under her quill enough times."

He chuckled, a bit of the normal merry headmaster coming back.

"I have done a lot of things that I regret, Harry. I've done things people would consider terrible. I've failed time and time again; in fact, I have only succeeded in a few occasions. Such is the burden men like you and me bear."

He stood from his chair and walked around the desk, leaning against it at my side.

"If I hadn't learnt that spell when I was younger I would probably have died when I faced Grindelwald. And if you hadn't learnt what you did you may not have survived against the dragon. I'm ashamed to say that I could not have intervened if the situation got dire, such are the bindings of the Goblet of Fire."

"But still, I lost my temper out there, all because of a stupid broom. And it's dark magic. It dangerous, sir, What if I got pissed off at someone and ended up attacking them? I could really hurt them."

"The fact that you are worried about that should ease your worries, my boy. Magic is not dark even if it's dangerous. Would you call a flood dark? Or an earthquake, maybe? They are not, they are part of nature. They are dangerous, yes, and they can also be terrible, but they are not evil. We are wizards, Harry, we are forces of nature and as so, we are dangerous; but in our decisions and our morals lay the light and the dark not in the spells we cast."

He put a hand in my shoulder comfortingly, making me look up from my feet, "You are a young man, Harry, you are supposed to have wild emotions; and we both know that was not a mere broom, it represented so much more. But even so you pulled yourself together and remembered what was important in that moment, you overcame your rage before it controlled you entirely. You are a good man, Harry, never be ashamed of your strong feelings. They are what makes you, you; they are what makes you strong."

He moved towards a small round table to the side and, with a couple touches of his wand, the tea set that sat atop it startled into life pouring a couple cups of sweet smelling tea.

"I don't want to be presumptuous, my boy, but I have seen you grow up for the last four years, and yes, you have a strong temper. You are also... Let's say free spirited," he smiled as he handed me the one steaming cup and I flushed a bit. Hermione would have said thick headed, "but I've also seen how you care for your friends, how you risked life and limb for a little girl just because she was your friend's sister, and then again for a stranger that had suffered enough injustices."

He looked at me with eyes full of regret, "You are capable of love, Harry, in a way that few people are, and this is what will always save you from going down the path that so many powerful sorcerers chose before."

"How can you be so sure, sir? You say that I would do anything for those I love, and that is true. What if someone hurts one of my friends and I lose it like that again."

"The world, my dear boy is not as black and white as you try to paint it. Even good men are prone to wrongful behaviours, be them simple lies or acts most heinous, in the same way evil men are capable of acts of kindness. What sets apart one from the other is the effects such acts lay upon the person."

"Like guilt?"

"Amongst other things, yes. In the end we are not isolated beings so there will always be others to judge your actions, but-" and he lifted a hand as he intoned the last word, probably seeing that I was going to start wallowing again, "we will also be the judge of their words. Don't feel hurt for the words of Ms Skeeter, Harry, she is not someone to look up to in terms of character, to put it mildly. And you are neither the first nor the last to be slandered by her quill."

"I'm not worried about what she wrote. Well yes, I am. But I don't care that she said-" Words are definitely not one of my gifts, I exhaled slowly as I let my body melt into the chair, "it's just... It got me thinking. I don't care if she says I'm a manic killer, but... What if I am on that path? How would I even know? Maybe I should stop studying that spellbook."

"How would you know if you are a bad person... I dare say that is one question everyone ask themselves at some point. I would say that you can't never be sure, the only thing you can do is do your best and then, as the time passes, you can look back and judge your actions. And maybe hope that your mistakes were not so great." This last part seemed to draw Dumbledore into a memory, for his downcast eyes lost themselves in something unseen.

"As for the book," he continued, "I glanced at it when I had it in my possession. I seem to remember it was a handwritten journal of sorts, isn't it?"

I nodded waiting for him to elaborate.

"Such a thing can only be written by someone who is entirely familiar with the spells it contains, then. Some of those I hadn't seen anywhere else, they may even be original creations," he gave me a meaningful stare.

I nodded again and then it hit me. I'm such a prat. My face flushed in embarrassment.

"I think you know what my council would be, then." he said with a little smile, apparently not offended at my unintended insult.

I smiled through my embarrassment and ruffled my hair, "Er, yeah. Sorry sir."

"No harm done, my dear boy. I hope your mind feels lighter now."

I nodded slowly, still deep in thought. Dumbledore had just put a lot of ideas in my head, but for now I would take solace in his opinion of my actions.

"Yes, headmaster. Thank you for your listening, you must have a lot of things to do. I won't take any more of your time."

"I'm never busy enough to give council to a troubled mind, call it a privilege of old age. It's almost a requirement when your beard is as long as mine to impart inscrutable wisdom, wether requested or not." He chuckled at this, "And it's always refreshing when someone listens, for a change."

I gave a little smile and finished my lukewarm tea before going out again, feeling like I could join in the Weasley' twins most recent jokes about my dark tendencies without the heavy feelings they carried before.

* * *

"I would 'ave thought you wouldn't care for the rules about visiting Le villagé."

The snow crunched under the wheels of the carriage where Fleur and I were traveling as it slowly moved towards Hogsmeade. Today was the last day we would be allowed to go to the quaint little town before Christmas, and I decided it would be a good time to honour my bet with Fleur.

"I'll have you know I always respect the rules," I said with as little irony as I could. Which of course made her burst out laughing.

I held back a smile, but I could help how my eyes softened at her mirth.

"Say that again, Mon voyeur."

I ruffled my hair, yet again, a habit I really need to curb.

"I don't really care about those rules, but I would prefer if we could just walk around normally. It would be pretty ridiculous if I were under my cloak all the time and you were to walk around speaking 'alone' like a crazy person."

"Well, oui. That's a good point. I would look quite strange at a table with two drinks and sitting alone. People would think I was jilted," her hand raised to her chest dramatically and her face turned into a surprised mask.

My cheeks got red and I chuckled, "No one would think that, Fleur. At most they would think you drove away the other person."

"And you wonder why I am so proud," she smiled softly at me,letting her hand fall slowly to her lap.

With a lurch the carriage stopped, snapping us from the look we were sharing.

Fleur sat straight and smiled happily, clearly exited.

"So, Mon Ami, are you going to open the door or not? I though Gryffins were chevaleresque," She gesture to the carriage's door, "besides, as the winner of our little bet I expect a champion's treatment."

I snorted, "A couple points margin does not merit a champion's treatment," she opened her mouth to, most likely, chastise me as a sore looser, "And you need to put your scarf and hat."

With a huff at being interrupted, and probably at my smirk, she wrapped a thick Gryffindor scarf around her neck till it covered up to her nose and a wool hat that her sister had sent her by owl when she complained about the cold.

"Covered enough for you, Monsieur?" She said, her voice muffled under the scarf, her eyes the only part of her face that laid uncovered except for some tufts of hair that sticked from between her scarf and hat.

"You will probably still complain about the cold."

"Well excuse me if I am used to a more reasonable climate."

I got out of the carriage snickering at her glare and welcomed the numbing cold winds as I helped her down.

"That gentlemanly enough for you, majesty?"

"It's a start."

A small smile passed between us as we started down the main Street of the only fully magical community of England.

"So, what do you think?" I said, having walked for a bit amongst the crowd of students doing last minute shopping before Christmas or just walking around with friends.

Snow fell lazily, giving everyone a small dusting of white over the mostly dark overcoats. And making me look like I had salt and pepper hair, probably.

"It is very pretty, like a painting made by a street artist. Pretty in an unrefined, natural way. Like an old, cozy sofa."

"I though the same the first time I came here. The snow on the rooftops and the smoke from the stone chimneys make for a pretty charming sight."

"I never pegged you for a romantic, Monsieur," I could hear the teasing smile hidden behind the scarf.

"I know how precious something like a nice view can be," especially when for a big part of my life It was something I didn't have, I added to myself. The view from inside a cupboard is a doleful one.

"Simple pleasures then."

"Yeah..." She turned towards me and bumped shoulders, making my contemplative mood evaporate.

"Hey, let's get your prize. Nothing cheers me up as a nice bar of chocolate." It was true, too. Since the dementors last year, chocolate has a special place in my heart.

The corner of her eyes wrinkled in mirth and, grabbing me by the arm, she started pulling me forwards, forgetting again that she had no idea were the sweets store was.

I merely laughed and let myself be pulled along the snowy street until we got close enough to Honeydukes.

"Come on Flour, the store is this way," I pulled on her so that she stopped walking in the wrong direction.

"I'll let the nickname pass because we are close to free chocolate," she was almost skipping now, tufts of hair bouncing free from their imprisonment and my black winter coat, oversized on her thanks to a spell, floating around her figure.

If it weren't for her height she could be confused for a little girl playing in the snow.

But then we entered the store and all illusions stayed on the perch with the coat.

The store would have been warm only with the amount of people perusing the shelves. The fire burning on the hearth behind the counter made it almost uncomfortably warm for me, but Fleur apparently wasn't bothered.

By the time I had taken my outer robe off she was already trying to choose between a set of animated chocolate she had found.

"Planning your vengeance?" I asked as I watched her look between a chocolate dragon on her left hand that kept spewing small flames and an octopus that she held on her right hand and was wrapping it's tentacles around her fingers.

Her eyes locked on the dragon and gleamed evilly making the small chocolate construct try to hide behind its wings.

"Oh yes. I was going to go for the Mint Kraken but the dragon will taste sweeter with that in mind. Besides it's too cold for eating fey mint." She put the exhibition sweets back on the display.

"What is the dragon filled with?"

"Fire whiskey, a lot better for winter."

"I'm partial to these," I took a couple of dark chocolate bars that I had last year, "One of my parents friends recommended them to me last year, they are really good."

"I'll take a couple then. Oh! Look at that!" And just like that she pranced towards the next aisle where a young boy was holding some kind of multicoloured liquorice stick that randomly shot sparkles.

I went after her picking things that I thought she may like and some others for myself.

Honeydukes was always kind of a new experience for they had new products all the time. There was a jar filled with flying honey bees that seemed like they would be really hard to catch, acid fairy wings, gummy bears that roared and fight eachother and so many more random things.

After a while we had each an armful of assorted sweets and I gestured towards the counter, only to be completely ignored by Fleur that was now staring at a quaffle shaped jaw breaker in abject desire.

"How would you even begin to eat that?"

She sighed with an aching sadness that was comical in this trivial situation, "I suppose you are right. But look at all the colours! Se est magnifique!"

"Come on, let's pay; I still have to show you another hog-place, remember?"

slowly and pouting like a little child Fleur followed me to the counter all the while muttering something about hogs.

The old lady that owned the store was, as always, all smiles and crinkled eyes. She took all our parcels and put them inside a conveniently small box.

"That'll be twenty galleons, my dears."

I winced, 20 galleons is a lot of money. And apparently Fleur noticed, because she patted my shoulder comfortingly, "you'll just 'ave to win our next bet, Mon petit chou."

"I'm not even going to ask what's a 'shou,'" I said as I counted the gold. Fleur merely giggled.

A loud sigh draw my attention back to the kind lady who was expecting payment.

"Sorry, here you go," I said as I handed her the money.

"It's no problem my dears. Enjoy your sweets! Oh you two are so cute."

I sputtered while Fleur thanked her with a small 'merci' and put a hand on my back to lead me out the store.

"I'm not cute! I'm a deranged junior dark lord! Haven't she heard?"

"I don't think that is what the madam meant. Though it is good to see you are no longer beating yourself up over those articles." Her face scrunched in disgust as she donned her cloak.

"Yeah... I had a good talk with Dumbledore. He... Gave me some perspective."

"I'm glad," the tinkle of the door's bell anounced our exit and the sudden cold from outside made her shiver, "I always go to Maxime when I need advice too, at least when I'm at beauxbatons. She always listens."

"It's weird thought. To go to someone like Dumbledore to just vent." I started to walk down the street towards the infamous Hog's head, Fleur's arm brushing against my shoulder with each step.

"I don't know, in a way you are as much a public figure as 'im. 'e would know what you are going through, it makes sense."

"I didn't thought about it like that, I just thought that he always has the answers."

"And you trust 'im. That's fair enough."

The snow crunched beneath our feet as we navigated amongst groups of people that alternatively glared at either one of us or giggled in a way that was quickly getting on my nerves.

"Here we are," I said as I pointed towards the shabby looking store front.

"This is it?" She said as she looked at the old stone walls that were matted with dirt to the point of looking like black stone. The windows were so dirty that the only thing you could discern looking through them was that there was light and people inside. The wooden sign hanging above the door chose that moment to creak in the wind at the same time the severed head of the pig depicted emitted a pitiable whine.

"It's called the Hog's Head, what did you expect?"

"I do not know, but I was not expecting une porcherie. 'ogwarts sounds unpleasant but I 'ave to admit it's pleasant enough."

I opend my mouth to poke fun at Fleur's admission that she enjoyed the old castle when I was suddenly, and rudely, interrupted by Fleur toppling over me, the sudden weight staggering me.

Being ankle deep in snow, I could'nt manage to shift my stance quickly enough to keep us standing; so I wrapped an arm around her waist preparing for a fall.

Strangely enough, we didn't fall. Her weight felt no more of a burden than my school trunk does. how can anyone be so light? she is still taller than me and I certainly aren't so light even being a scrawny git.

Fleur let out a low growl and I followed her line of sight to a girl with long, curly black hair that was walking away from us looking back and glaring at Fleur with large, dark eyes.

Fleur quickly pushed herself off of me and, grabing my arm she pulled me towards the dingy looking inn we were inspecting seconds before.

The warm air inside the inn hit my face as I was thinking, What in the nine hells just happened?

The inside was marginably cleaner than the front would make you think. That is, if you ignored the fact that the floor either was made from badly compressed earth or it had grown an overfloor. The tables at least looked clean, and thanks to Fleur's haste we found ourselves sat quite quickly.

Some of the other patrons turn to look at us discretely, but mostly we were ignored, which was fortunate as most of them look shady as all hells. The room was quite dim, in part thanks to the almost opaque with dirt windows, but mostly because the whole room was iluminated by a torch in each corner and a big fireplace in the wall opposite the bar.

"It smells like wet animals in 'ere." Fleur scrunched her nose as she divested from her hat and scarf.

"Well you are not obliged to stay lass, in fact unless you plan on buying something you should get out."

We jumped in our chairs and turned towards the suddenly there voice. It belonged to a tall, thin man with a white scraggly beard that covered all of his face, exept for his nose and his eyes that were such a bright blue, they still looked piercing even thrugh his dirty spectacles. Judging by the apron he was wearing he must be one of the inn workers.

"Well, frenchie? are you going to get going?"

"Non. I'll be 'aving a vin chaud, please."

"Not in scotland you won't."

Fleur glared at him, "Any warm, spiced wine will do."

The barman looked her up and down slowly and I clenched my jaw, "Wand," he said simply.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"What?" Fleur asked, miffed; "I am of age, I am of Champion of the Triwizard Tournament!"

"So is this kid," he pointed at me without glancing away from Fleur.

"Hes got a point," I murmured, even though the kid comment stung. So, this is how wizards check if you are of age.

"'Arry!" She berated me and looked at my like I had betrayed her.

I shrugged; when you are right, you are right.

"It's just wine!" she trew her hands up in the air, "I'm French! we drink wine with the meals all the time!"

The barman scrunched his brow and pursed his lips, but it looked to me like he was actually trying not to laugh at Fleur's indignation.

"Allrigh, Lassy, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'll get your wine," he turned towards me, "What will you have, boy."

"A butterbeer will be fine," I myself had to made an effort to contain my laughter at Fleur's fuming. The man smirked at me and walked towards the bar.

"Le nerf de certaines personnes..." she muttered looking at the old man as he walked away. I snorted, even if i didn't understand the words I got the idea. That made her turn towards me.

"And thanks for the support, 'Arry." She pouted and I couldn't hold my laught back anymore.

"Well the man had a good point. Anyway who was that girl before? Did she push you?"

"I don't know, some tramp," she said despondently, "I do not know who are worse, The stupid sleazy gits that keep asking me to the ball or the floozy airheads that keep glaring at me because of... well because of that."

"Where did you even learn those words?"

"I Read," she answered simply.

"Oh, so it was in that plain cover book?" I said remembering that misterious book she didn't let me see.

She just glared at me before taking the box with the dragon chocolate from our bags and holding the little construct to her face.

"I'm going to eat you alive," she wispered in a silky voice as she caressed the little dragon in her hand.

"Charming..."

"Really?" She asked surprised.

"No. That is frankly disturbing, Flour." Even so, that low and warm tone made a shiver run down my back. I was not about to tell her that though.

"Let me 'ave my revenge, 'arry."

"Okay, Okay, go on. Torture the poor thing."

"You are no fun," she bit a wing off the dragon as our drinks floated onto the table, and the sound that came from her throat after made me blush like a pomagranate. I grabbed a pack of Chocolate Cauldrons so that I would have something to do.

"This is really good!" she said after the chocolate had probably melted in her mouth, in the way Honey Ducks Chocolate was famous for doing.

"I told you so," I took a bite of my own chocolate. She bit the other wing off and I grimaced.

"My sister is like you, she always gets upset when I eat animated sweets. She ended up making a collection."

"A collection of chocolate?"

"Oui! When I take 'er shoping for sweets we always buy two of each, I eat mine and she puts 'ers inside a cristal box on 'er room," she laughted and took another bite, "'er room 'as wolves and snakes, gryffins, quimeras and phoenixes made from chocolate or candy in every shelf and table. She's very sweet."

"Unlike her sister, the scourge of the confectionery kingdom," I lowered my voice to the most dramatic tone I could.

"Oh shush," the poor dragon was down to the head and front legs, "She 'as one of you too, you know?"

"I'm a Chocolate statue?" I asked quite alarmed.

She burst out laughting, "Non, silly, just a statue. She 'as a small statue of 'Arry Potter and the Troll on the Bridge."

"The troll on the bridge?" I don't know if i'm confortable with that either.

"It's a book," she looked at my face for a moment and sighed, "You dont know about it, do you?"

I merely shook my head. She devoured the last of the chocolate and, and after a sip of wine moved her chair closer to mine.

"There's a series of children books about you, you wouldn't be all that known outside of Britain if it were not for them since Voldemort's menace was not really felt on Europe."

"Wow, just... Wow. I'm a fairy tale? That's crazy. Who even wrote them?"

She shruged with that same dainty, elegant way that I had come to asociate with her, "No one really knows, the writer uses a pen name. There is merchandise too though and Gabby 'as a small figurine from one of the stories, where you use your incroyable wit to trick a troll guarding a bridge to let you pass safely."

"Incredible wit?"

"Yes, I know. Complete fiction." She smirked.

"Hey!"

"You stuck your wand up the nose of an enraged mountain troll when you were eleven, 'Arry."

"Well, in my defence he didn't try to negotiate either." I said, my cheeks coloured.

She laughted, a melodious sound. "Stick to your shows of bravery, mon petite chou, you are more of a knight errant than you'll ever be a trickster.

I smiled at that, "So thats from where you knew my name? That time before the selection?

"Yes, and I though you were you were using that name to impress me. You 'ave no idea 'ow embarrased I was after," she laught and turned her face away in an effort to hide her suddenly rufous complexion, "I mean I knew 'Arry Potter to be english and young, so realistically you would 'ave to be at 'ogwarts; but I guess I always though of you as a fictional character."

"So you though I was just a british kid trying to pass for someone important," I smiled at the idea.

"I apologized right away."

"That, you did." She smiled softly at me, and as always I found myself returning her smile without a thought. I still didn't know what colour her eyes were, the longer I stared at her the more times I changed my mind about it. Blue and green at the same time was the closest, I'd say, but there was also the way the light played in them, so-

She adverted her eyes with a small smile and i realized that I had been staring. I turned towards my still intact butterbeer and took a sip a sip to hide my embarrasement, I don't know if the warm feeling in my stomach came from the beverage or from the small smile I couldn't help but notice on her face.

"So you still dont have a date to the ball?" I asked too quickly for my own comfort.

"No, and I 'ave no idea with whom to go. There is not a lot of time to get one either." tucked a piece of her golden hair behing her ear.

"No idea at all?" my voice came out softer than I expected. It was an stupid idea anyway.

"Well I 'ad an idea, but it was not possible in the end. What about you?"

"Nope," I took another swig of my bottle and tried to look anywhere but at her. My efforts were undermined by the fact that the ear that was now not covered by her hair had started to smoke, an as I noticed that her nose started to let out a small column of white smoke too.

"Er, Fleur? You are smoking," she cocked her head to the side, "your ear." I said, ready to throw butterbeer at the first sign of a flame.

"Oh, it's just the fire whiskey from the dragon, don't worry." She waved it off with a dismissive gesture, "It'll pass."

We sat in silence sipping our drinks for a few minutes after that. I dont know if it was just the suggestion of the image, but I could swear that Fleur had started emmiting a high pitch whine llike a teapot.

"What a pair we make, 'uh?" She snikered, "Two Triwizard Champions, talented and atractive; famous too in your case, and we cant get a date to a stupid ball."

"Well, we could... you know," I inhaled, gathering my courage, "We could go together."

She turned to look at me in surprise, and then her face turned softer and her smile sad. My heart dropped at that.

Gods damnit I should just have stayed silent.

"It would be better if we didn't, 'Arry," she said quietly.

I'm not very aware of my facial expressions most of the time, though Hermione always says that I wear my heart on my sleeve, and Fleur probably thinks the same for her face softened even further into a kind expression that just made my soul melt.

"Oh, cherie; I didn't meant it like that." I turned my face away, ashamed of her comforting tone. "We can't go together because we are both Champions, there is a rule against it."

I turned to look at her then, that sounded both completely sensible and utter bullshite. Is this tournament not about 'International Cooperation?'

"You don't need to do that Fleur."

"What do you mean?" her eyes searched mine.

"Sugarcoate it. I won't get mad because you don't want to go with me. I won't insist either."

"I am not lying!" She straightened in her chair, "Madam Maxime warned me about it, and I know that you don't care about the rules but I do not want to piss my 'eadmistress off. She is one of the few people who 'as my back at Beauxbatons."

"I- I understand," I ruffled my hair -I really need to stop doing this when I'm embarrased- and chuckled. This seemed to lighten the mood again and she snickered too, "It's strange though, isn't it? We are supposed to make friends and stuff like that this year. International cooperation and all that."

She shrugged in a 'what can you do' way, "I guess that is all well unless you are the one competing. In the end we all want to win, and it would send a message they do not want. Remember, there is money being made from this, marchandise and such."

"That makes sense," I sipped my bottle, "Ugh, I am close to just not showing up. Even if I would have to duel proffesor Mcgonagall for the insolence."

Fleur laughted heartily at this, her ears still letting out a column of smoke, "She seems like she would do that. I think Maxime would lock me inside my room if I tried that."

"I am pretty sure Madam Pomfrey would have my back, so the idea may have some merit," I smiled imagining the situation. Those are two fearsome women, it would be quite spectacular to be sure.

"Sadly, no one would 'ave my back, as you say, against Maxime, so I will 'ave to pass."

"What a killjoy," I teased. "Why did Maxime even told you about that rule."

"Je ne sais pas." She blurted in a single breath. I raised an eyebrow.

"I do not know, she thought I needed to know I suppose."

We drank again and I found my bottle to be empty so I looked towards the bar and gesture towards the blue eyed old man. Another bottle came flying and pushed the empty one from the table, but instead of falling it floated back towards a box next to the bar. I couldn't help but smile, I love magic.

The little show didn't faze Fleur in the slightest, she was merely cupping her steaming glass in front of her steaming face, her lips taut in a pensive expression.

"Maybe we could just go together anyways."

"I thought you didn't want to get on your headmistress bad side," I tilted my head, my heart beating a bit faster.

"Well, if we went with someone else, but ended up spending the rest of the ball with eachother they could not reproach us. We would not be breaking any rule, right? After the opening dance we should be free to... mingle? I think mingle is the word."

"Yes, it is. Isn't it a bit cruel though? What about our original dates?"

"I don't know," she raised her arms exasperated, "it was an idea. I would probably end up trying to loose whomever I go with. Maybe they can get together? Your date and mine. At least with you I could 'ave a nice time."

It is a rare ocation to see Fleur so vulnerable as she looked in her chair, sad and fuming. Litteraly for the latter.

"Well, it is not a bad idea," she perked up, "let me see if I can ask a favour of a friend, allright? I don't think we would have a good time if we were hiding from your overzealous date."

"And what about your overzealous date?"

"Oh Please, who would be with a crazy puppet from that old coot Dumbledore, who could start trowing curses if you step on his foot."

"You would be surprised, monsieur dramatique," she smiled, "Okay, talk to your friend. Maybe that night won't be so terrible after all."

"Cheers to that." I lifted my bottle and she clink it to her glass, making her giggle.

The ball was not looking so bad all of a sudden. Now I just had to think of someone who would be agreable to this little scheme.


	12. No Just Reward Ever Came Without a Challenge

"Hey, Mione."

"Hum... Yes, Harry? She kept her eyes on the book currently in front of her, paging through it with a hand while the other held a quill.

The common room was relatively empty, with only a few people milling around. Despite the climate most students were relishing in the newly given freedom that, as of today, they had been afforded. Yesterday had been the last day of term.

Of course 'most of the students' doesn't really apply to my good friend here, and as so she was using her free time to cross reference 'that one thing that professor Vector said that was really yada, yada...

"Hermy!"

"Don't call me that!" Finally she stopped looking at the yellowed pages, if only to glare at me.

"Well, it got your attention, innit? You been on that book for ages." I cracked my neck to illustrate how much time I had been trying to get her attention.

"Sorry," she murmured, rubbing her neck in a way that was eerily similar to Ron, "It's just that this is so interesting! the posible applications of matricial aproximations in spell creation and-"

"Here we go again..."

"Sorry, Harry," she had the good graces to at least blush.

"Don't worry it wouldn't be you otherwise, but do try to listen now."

"Allright, but if you ever call me Hermy again I'll try an experimental charm on you," her brow furrowed in disgust, "I barely stand Mione, But Hermy is crossing a line."

"Okay, okay. no need to get miffed," I lifted my hands defensively. She kept looking at me expectantly, "Oh right, I meant to ask if you had a date for the ball."

That caused a reaction. She dropped her quill and started stuttering, all the while getting remarkably rufous.

"Harry! Are you asking me to the ball?"

"What? No! Well yes, I mean kind off... Look I just needed a favour."

"Because that would be... weird."

"Hey! I resent that," I crossed my arms broodingly.

"You know what I mean." Hermione was holding back a laugh, the little shit.

"Maybe... It was still mean."

"So you still don't have a date, do you?"

"Nope. What about you? that's right, I haven't forgotten you didn't answer."

She became spectacularly scarlet once more and started fidgeting with the pages of the book.

"Maybe..."

"Come on Hermione, what's the big deal? yes or no."

"Well, as a matter of fact I do have a date."

"Huh..."

"What do you mean huh? Is it so hard to believe someone would ask me?" She straightened and leant back on her chair glaring at me.

"Of course not. And stop being defensive, I wont ask you who it is if you don't want to tell me. Ugh, I hate this shite." I let myself drop sideways into the couch. Even though I wasn't looking at Hermione I could almost hear her frown as clearly as I heard the crackle of the hearth.

"It really irks me when you curse."

"Whatever."

We stayed in silence for a while, only the sounds of the empty common room on the background.

"What was the favour you were going to ask me? you didn't say."

"It doesn't matter, anyway." I turned so that I was laying on my back on the couch, and I could hear shuffling as Hermione put dow her book.

"Harry..." that tone was always half warning, half sympathy. I do not think anyone else has managed such a tone.

"Well I was going to ask you to the ball. Kind off."

"Really?" she sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, I asked Fleur and-"

"Oh, Harry," is that pity? "She said no, didn't she. That little- Hussy!"

"What? No!" and then I could only laugh as I got what she called Fleur. "Language, young lady!"

"Shut up! She said yes? Wait, then why were you going to ask me?"

"No, she didn't say yes per se."

"You can be so insufferably, infuriatingly confusing. Say what you mean, Harry." The exasperation in her voice was getting too real.

I sat back again so that I could look at her, "Apparently there is a rule against two Champions going together, so we can't go with each other."

"Really? Where did you learnt that?"

"Fleur told me, Maxime told her. I suppose she read it on the contract or... you know what? I have no idea where the rules to this thing are written."

"Which doesn't surprise me, at all." She smiled at my half-hearted glare. "Didn't professor Dumbledore or Mcgonnagal tell you that?."

"No. but maybe they didn't thought it was necessary, after all Fleur is the one girl amongst us. Who else would I ask? Krum?"

"Hey I'm not one to judge you."

"Ha, ha, ha. you sense of humour know no bounds. In any case, we can't officialy go together but there is no rule as to what we can do during the ball."

"What does that have to do with with you inviting me. oh!"

"Sharp as ever I see." I smiled thinly

"You wanted to do the whole opening of the ball with me and then dump me." She deadpanned.

It was my turn to splutter and blush, "No! no, no, no. I would enter with you and have the first dance and then you would go to your actual date and I would stay with Fleur."

"And what about Fleur's date?"

"Same thing I guess." Hermione looked rather skeptical.

"I suppose it is not a bad plan, especially for your standards, but I... can't."

"Yes, I imagined you would say no. That's why I said it didn't matter anymore. You are not one to like that kind of dupery."

"Hey, I've gotten into enough 'dupery' with you and Ron before. Besides it's not that I don't want to help you. You know that I don't like Fleur, but for you I would give her the benefict of the doubt. At least for the ball. But I can't."

"Why not?" Her fidgety hands were never a good sign.

She breathed a deep sigh, "I have to do the opening dance."

"Oh come on Hermione, I have to do that either way. I know its embarrassing but it will just be five minutes, how bad can it be?" Maybe I was jaded to the stares of other people but it was not that bad. She lifted a hand in a stop gesture. She was biting her lip nervously as she tended to do.

"You don't understand, I cant do the opening dance with you because I have to do the opening dance with... my date."

I'm sure my eyes must have looked comical with how wide they opened, almost as much as my mouth which was surely gaping like a fish. "What! Who? With who?"

"With Whom, Harry."

"Stop dodging the question!"

She crossed her arms "You said you wouldn't make me tell you."

"You-" I pointed at her, perhaps a bit too agressively, "You are right, sorry." I huffed and threw myself back into the couch, "Damn. Well, you can say that you were asked by two champions. Who would have though." I smirked.

"Three actually," she said with a smug smile that could be heard, "Not bad for a toothy mudblood, huh?"

"WHAT! Don't ever let me hear you calling yourself- that! Okay?!" I jumped, yet again from my resting position to glare at her.

"Hey, okay. Jesus, it was a joke."

"Well it was as funny as my jokes about becoming dragon dung. And what do you mean three?"

"Just that. I was asked by three champions, including you. And don't smile at me like that, I wont tell you which one I accepted, youll have to wait for that day."

"So," I said into the silence after a few minutes, "It *Is* possible that you are going with Fleur."

"You little-"

My racuous laughter was interrupted rudely by a flying pillow to the face, she huffed in an attempt to look insulted but the corners of her lips were twitching suspiciously.

In the end she went back to her book and I went back to lounging in the couch trying to think of a solution to my little dilemma.

After a while people started trickling inside the common room, most going up to the dorms. During my bored watch of the people who walked in and out a particular group caught my eye.

"Wait up, girls!" I scrambled up from the couch after the trio that was getting up the stairs to the girls dorm rooms, "Katie wait, I need to-"

I jumped up the stairway several steps at a time, and then I was on my ass several meters from the stairs with the world spinning and full of giggles.

How could I forget, again, that magicals tend to ward the way into the girls' rooms?

Fleur would be laughting her ass off right now.

Clearly the wards do more than just banish you into your arse because as soon as I tried to sit up I nearly puked. Everything was doing the merry-go-round around me and the blur of colours was getting to be to much, so I clapped a hand on my mouth and clenched my eyes.

"Oh, look Angie. Katie has a paramour." That sounds like Alicia.

"How forward, Harry, you can't go to her bedroom for a first date." More damnable giggles ensued after Angelina's comments.

"Be careful, Katie. He likes blondes." Said the mirthful voice of Hermione.

"Traitor!" I exclaimed full of indignation. I opened my eyes and the carousel had mercifully stopped, leaving me to look up to the huddled, giggling figures of the Flying Foxes, as Lee likes to call them when he commentates the quidditch games -After Professor McGonagall made sure he couldn't say the word vixen through a sonorous charm.-

"So, should we leave you two alone?" Angelina gestured between a clearly embarrassed, but amused Katie and me.

"Well, unless you plan to stop making fun of me, yes. Give us a minute." I got up from the floor and walked towards thep fireplace, far from my treacherous friend and my amused teammates. Katie followed me there.

"Hey," I said, like the master wordsmith I am.

"Hey," she tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear, "haven't spoken to you in a while, huh?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," I ruffled my hair -yet again, in going to have to start keeping track of this habit- "It's my fault, really. I've been a recluse this year."

"Where have you even been staying? I've heard you don't sleep on the tower anymore."

"Oh, you know. Here and there." Evasive maneuver, I know. But l'Ermitage *is* my private place.

"There are some rumours, you know? About you and the French Champion." She said, in an uninterested tone that was clearly forced, even to me.

"Oh yeah?"

"Is that where you've been sleeping?"

I choked and started coughing at the directness of the question, "No!" Damnit, she was giggling again, "I just found a quiet place in the castle. After the selection I didn't really felt... Welcomed around."

"Hey that's okay, Harry. I was just teasing; and I know, Angelina was quite crossed. She was really hoping to be chosen, as were many others. But she's calmed since." she smirked, "The rumour does exist though."

I covered my eyes and sighed, "I know, I know. And It's got no basis, okay?"

"I'll choose to believe you, especially because I would prefer not to think of the little brother of the team sleeping with a fit seductress." She laughed at my expression then, I really am not prepared to be submitted to this mortification.

"By the Gods, stop it," I pleaded, she of course only laughed louder. Katie always did have a cruel streak on the field, and apparently it extends beyond it too.

"You wanted to talk to me though, didn't you? After all, you fell on your ass for something."

"Ah, yes. Well you see, I need a... favour."

She lifted an eyebrow, "You know, Harry? You are pants at this."

"Well, since I'm not probably doing what you think I'm doing, I think you can't judge."

"So you are not asking me to go with you to the Ball?" She said, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Not... Exactly. But yes, in a way."

"Oh, I understand completely."

"How do you even manage to sound so sarcastic?"

"It's a natural born talent. You should hear my mother talk."

I made a face that clearly said I should do no such thing. "Look the thing is, I need someone for the announcement of the Champions and the First Dance only. And since I'm not fond of being slapped by random girls I thought to ask my friends."

"So why not Hermione? Not blonde enough?" She twisted a lock of hair between her fingers teasingly.

"You girls enjoy being cruel, don't you?"

She laughed, "A bit, yes."

"In any case, Hermione can't help me. I just asked her."

"I may be able to help you. But," She looked at me up and down, "I do need to be in on the plan. Why do you even need someone just for the first dance? Is it not easier to just get a normal date?" Her eyes widened suddenly, "oh! I know, you want to bail afterwards!"

I let out a sigh, "No, I'm not leaving afterwards. I'm staying."

She gesture for me to continue speaking. A bit too insistently. Agh, sod it.

"Look, Katie, Fleur and I wanted to go together, but we can't. So the best solution is that we go with someone else and after the first task we stay with eachother."

"Fleur?"

"Yes, the French champion!" I said a bit irritated.

She opened her mouth in an 'oh' gesture. A silent 'oh' gesture.

"Katie?"

"You two are together!" She exclaimed.

"No, we're not. We're just friends."

"But you like her." It wasn't a question, and as so I didn't gave an answer.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said okay. I'll help you, I'll open the dance with you."

"Really?" I looked at her brown eyes, I didn't expect she would accept.

"Of course, silly. What kind of teammate would I be if I didn't. I'll be your wingman," she let out a loud guffaw, "get it? Because we fly in quidditch and-"

"That was awful, Katie." Her jokes were absolutely terrible on a good day.

She shrugged as if to say 'I know, what can you do.'

"There is one condition though."

"And that would be?" The glint on her eye was not a good sign.

"You see the Twins are organising a huge snow fight outside, and we could use someone with your reflexes on our team."

I smiled, it was pretty obvious she was just trying to get me to go to one of the unofficial house activities. But you know what? It could be fun, so why not?

"You got it," I clapped hands with her as we do before a game, "meet you outside, I have to put some warmer clothes."

"Harry, you do know that your dorms are not that way, do you?" I heard as I went towards the common room's entrance.

"Yup!" Of course, I keep going outside. My things hadn't been on Gryffindor tower for months now.

* * *

"DUCK!"

As soon as I heard Fred -or George- scream I faceplanted on the snow, and not a second too soon, for a sudden barrage of snow balls suddenly passed over me.

I turned towards the other side of the field and saw through my skewed and dirty glasses some black and yellow blur waving a hand over his head and laughting.

"Everyone watch it!" I screamed before, with a word and a gesture from my wand, burrowing a makeshift trench in the snow. All the Gryffins threw themselves in it.

"Those lousy gits!" Came the dulcet tones of an angry Angelina.

"You did tell them that we weren't to use magic, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!" Complained one of the twins.

"But if it's magic they want..." Said the other.

"Oh yes, let's show them."

"Do you remember the thing dad was tinkering with?"

"We could transfigure it from a ball of snow. But the elastic thingy..."

"Well, we got Harry here." The redhead pointed at me without turning from his brother.

"True," he smiled evilly, "and you know what's better than a snowball to the face, my dear brother?"

"Of course I do brother," he replied with an identically evil smile, "Do you have them with you?"

"Always," and he pulled a huge leather sack from his pocket. How in the hells did that fit there?

"So, a switching spell? Like with the-"

"Yup! Now, on it George!"

Though most of the others were, by the looks of it, utterly confused; Angelina, Alicia, Katie and I were by now used to the way the twins would brainstorm ideas and merely waited.

"Come on guys, help me make a big ball of snow. Not you, Harry." Said the now identified George as he crouched and started to pull snow together.

"You hold this, my friend." Said Fred as he handed me the leather bag. The smell was awful, and it was obvious why as soon as Fred reached into it.

Dung bombs. I smirked, nasty; how like the twins.

He started to carefully line them up on the snow next to George's... Snow man?

"Oi, Creevey! Start with a bunch of snowballs and put them in front of these. The rest distract the other team while we work."

In little time they had a decent amount of snow balls parallel to the dung bombs. Fred's brow furrowed, his eyes intent on the mixed spheres on the floor.

He raised his wand and his eyes narrowed, then a mist seemed to pass from the dung bombs towards the snow balls, tinting them a yellowish colour.

"Ready George?"

"You know it, George."

Wait what? Which one is Fred then Nevermind, is that a sodding cannon?

The huge ball of snow angelina, Alicia and one of the Georges were piling up had been at some point transfigured into some kind of plate with several protuberant hollow tubes atop a wooden platform.

"What the fuck is that?" I looked as the twin with the yellow snowballs started levitating them into the tubes.

"Don't rightly know, mate. Dad saw some drawings of this shit and tried to replicate it. It's some kind of a rotating cannon, it's supposed to have some kind of mechanism to shoot inside, but dad didn't manage to make it work."

"We don't need it though," said the other redhead, "we just need you to put that nice banisher of yours to good use. I'll aim, you load," he said turning to his brother.

"Sir!" Saluted the addressed.

I stood behind the strange contraption at my housemate's behest.

"Angie, shield us! Katie, raise us!"

I fell to my knees as the floor under me raised into a pillar too quickly, putting the twins and me right into the line of snow projectiles that were flying over the trench before.

The snow hit an invisible barrier just in front of us and fell to the floor. It looked as if our adversaries were using some spell to duplicate their snowballs and someone else and then levitating them to have someone else banish them. It was an idea.

"Harry! Cast! Cast!" Screamed George.

"Alicia! You load the... Thing. Fred, you know the duplication charm?"

"Yes, but... Oh! That's brilliant!" His eyes widened as much as his smile, making him look a bit crazed.

"After I banish them, yeah? Aim it a bit upwards."

"Depulso," I ordered to the round yellowed ball and it took flight.

"Geminio" I heard from my right. The sky exploded in a shower of yellow.

"Manibus," came from my left and the cannon twisted, putting another smelly ball of snow in front.

"Depulso," I repeated, my lip quirking when the sounds of disgust started coming from the other side of the field as the tainted snow started falling on them."

"Geminio!"

"Manibus!"

"Yes! Chaaaaarge!" Ron's voice resonated from somewhere on the trench, and all the others resumed the attack, banishing big chunks of snow directly to the front.

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were now falling under the two-sided barrage and trying to get away.

The twins and I kept our casting in a way that sounded almost like a chant, strained from trying to hold back a laugh.

What a turntable.

The other team sank into the ground without warning. No! It was-

I crouched and cast a shield. The others didn't sank, the ground in front rose in a wave of snow that fell on top of us. Fred and George were within my shield, I could not hear anything but for the sound of the snow sliding over my charm like it was alive.

In a couple of seconds it has passed over us and I could see my house mates. A few had managed a shield in time but the rest had been roughhoused by the unexpected attack.

A deep, mirthful laughter echoed throughout the grounds. I turned towards it to be rewarded by a deeply amused Dumbledore, wand in hand, standing at the foot of the stairs of the castle's gate with a gaggle of curious students from the foreign delegations.

There was one in particular that I could recognise just by the shine on her hair.

"Nice reactions, Mr. Potter. And you too, Miss Weasley, especially given your age," Ginny had been one of the few others to shield in time. And she almost started steaming with how red she got from the praise. "You should all get inside and get a nice hot shower," he said to the ensemble, "we wouldn't want you all to catch a cold just before the ball after all."

At the words of the headmaster the students started to trickle back inside, laughting and talking after a snow battle that turned more epic that I had originally thought it would.

Katie and her friends passed me by and smiled, hair tussled and looking as wet as I felt. Yup, time for a nice warm bath.

"Good evening, Headmaster. I gather the avalanche was your doing?"

"Indeed, my dear boy. One nifty little spell if I do say so myself, as useful as your imagination allows. The Weasley twins would find it quite useful, they have a very creative mind. I taught it long ago to Percival."

"I see, maybe he'll pass the wisdom." I directed a small smile at our inside joke.

"I'm sure he will, Mr. Potter. Now let's get inside, I believe there are some friends waiting for you."

I started towards the door, and a waving Fleur. Strangely enough, Hermione was standing next to her, a smug smirk that was at odds with her flushed expression. Ah well, I guess I'll find out later.

The important thing is that there was one problem less in my future.

* * *

"So," Hermione turned towards me as I flopped down on Fleur's conjured chair, "how did it go with professor McGonagall?"

_"Mr. Potter! If you step on my foot one more time..."_

I shuddered at the recollection.

"Fine, fine. Kind off. I'm knackered thought."

"You should have started with the dancing lessons earlier."

"I know, no need to rub it in any more. McGonagall made sure I knew it."

"And how was it? Are you any good."

"As good as dead when I step on Fleur's foot."

Her hand covered her mouth fast as what have you and she started giggling in the most girlish manner I had ever seen, her wild hair bouncing in time with the uncharacteristic sounds.

"Uhm, Hermione? Are you alright?" My brow furrowed in worry for my friend.

"Oh of course I am, you big prat. And I don't think you have to worry about Fleur judging your dancing skills?"

"How do you know? Agh, it doesn't matter anyways. If Fleur doesn't then Katie will, she's meaner than most think." I kicked a book that was near the chair, and I hate to say it, I pouted.

"Katie is a darling." She waved me away.

"Exactly my point." I muttered.

"And to answer your question, I know because I had a little chat with Flur yesterday."

"Oh yeah! That's right, you were with her when Dumbledore decided to bury half of his fourth years. I meant to ask you about that then, but I forgot. You looked kinda... Strange."

Her cheeks turned a pretty Gryffindor colour and her lips pressed together in a self satisfied expression.

"Four out of four."

I frowned, confused.

"What do you-" my eyes widened, "she didn't."

"She did," she smiled, "granted, it was a bit awkward to be asked on a date by another girl, and it was not a date per se, But still. Four out of four."

I broke out into laughter, "Oh Gods, hahaha, I'm so going to tease her for that, I wiped the tears that had resulted from my laughter, "And what has this ball done to sweet, shy, bookish Hermione. She's now fawning over *gasp* boys! And a girl too!"

"You nit," she smiled at me, "I don't know... It's kinda nice to be appreciated. I am not paid a lot of compliments most of the time, and now every time some arse makes fun of my teeth or my hair or whatever I will remember that four Triwizard champions though I was cute and ask me on a date."

I smiled fondly at my old friend, she did deserve a bit of an ego boost.

"And I know that you and Fleur don't really count since you asked for other reasons, and you are my friend and she's a girl-"

"Hey! I do count, I may be your friend but I think you're cute too. And for all you know Fleur thinks it too," her eyes softened, "No one can resist Hermione's beauty! Not even other girls!"

We both laught at that.

"Besides, Krum and Cedric both asked you, and one is an international quidditch star and the other is pretty handsome himself. That counts."

"You think Cedric is pretty handsome? Is there something you want to say to me, Harry?"

"Come on, and I'm the prat?"

A new fit of giggles ensued. This tournament has been... A disaster, in some levels. But between my friendship with Fleur, the new level of confidence I have with the headmaster, the new magic I'm learning, and now this about Hermione's self esteem, it looks as if it's bringing as many gifts as challenges.

Lets wait and see what will come next.


	13. The Yule Ball

_ **Chapter 13** _

_ **The Yule Ball** _

* * *

A draft came into the room through a crack in the window I was trying to use as an improvised mirror, my previous attempt at transfiguring something for the purpose as effective as a murky pond.

The wind played with the robes I was trying to look at, the elegant, black garment flowing in the wind as smoke.

They looked well fitted which was a relief, as It had not been easy to put them on. They were pretty different to the school robes I was used to.

It was a whole outfit made of several different fabrics, all of them as thin and soft looking as Fleur's school robes -an those were silk- but even then they protected against the bite of the winter winds as well as a heavy fur cloak.

The innermost robe was of a deep black and heavily embroidered with a golden thread in leafy shapes which contrasted nicely with the lighter tone of the outer fabric and it's dark black, geometric embroidery.

The last piece was a long one sided cape that dropped from that same shoulder, all black except for the trim which had a squared pattern also in gold. How had Hermione called it? Ah, yes. A meandros.

All in all, it had a pretty elegant feel to it. It looked a bit exotic too, like something from the far east would. I wonder why Ms Weasley chose it.

I laughed as I remembered that at one point Hermione had suggested I invited Parvati to the ball. She probably would dress in something in this style.

The wind blew again, making me decide to start my way towards the entrance hall, where I was supposed to wait for Katie.

On my way there I could not help but go over the steps McGonagall had tried to teach me, but I didn't know how much it would actually help. Dancing was not one of my greatest skills. Not by far.

It didn't help that I kept getting distracted by the decorations. The castle looked... different. The courtyard was filled with floating garlands of mistletoe and colourful crystal spheres, the dull stone of the walls and floors shined lightly as if sprinkled with a fine silvery dust and every painting and tapestry had joined in the festive decorations within their frames.

There was faint music coming seemingly out of thin air and I almost tripped over a handrail when an enchanted suit of armour decided to scream a carol at me.

The enchantment on the Great Halls' roof seemed to have been extended to the hallways at least partially, as there was warm snow falling from the roof and candles with coloured flames floated around leisurely.

There was already a gaggle of people waiting outside the closed doors to the Great Hall when I got there.

Everywhere else there was a blur of shapes and colours. Everyone was wearing something completely different, some people almost look like normal muggles, but others couldn't be mistaken but for what they were. Cedric was right by the door holding an animated conversation with Cho Chang.

Huh. So that answers who's going to be Hermione's partner. Said person stood some ways off from his fellow champion, sulking, as usual for him.

Viktor Krum was dressed as if he was attending a military dance, and the seriousness of his black and red fitted robe was dampened only by the slacking posture he had when he was forced to keep his feet on the ground.

Seeing as neither Katie nor Fleur were here yet I approached Cedric. He had been nice enough this whole time, despite being the one with the most reasons to dislike me.

"Harry! How are you mate?" His normally handsome smile looked unusually strained, but seeing how reddened and starchy the right side of his face was it was hardly surprising.

"Well, I'm here, so I could be better," he laughed in response, "How are you though? I saw you all bandaged up the day after the Task."

His face scrunched in a grimace, and I couldn't help but notice the worried expression that flashed on Chang's face.

"Yeah well, It could have been worse, I owe you for that. I guess you didn't see me, since you were the last to go. I had the Swedish dragon, tried to distract it with some rocks I transfigured into dogs but..." He made a vague gesture with his hands and grimaced again.

I nodded, "They are smarter that people think, aren't they? I thought that by flying around a bit I could make it move from the nest."

"Yeah," he shuddered, "I managed to take the egg before it saw me and started running back when it blew fire at me. It didn't even hit me, I was just out of range, thankfully, but just a near pass was enough to burn me. The heat is incredible."

"Tell me about it. I think it didn't affect me so much because I was moving so fast. And I had a lot of fire retardant charms on me."

"I didn't think of that," he lamented, "fortunately it was not too bad a burn," he touched his cheek lightly, "it does feel a bit... stiff. The skin I mean."

"To be fair I didn't think about it either, it was Hermione's idea."

"Well, it was a smart move," He shuffled on his feet and touched his scar again, awkwardly enough that even I noticed. That's when I remembered that he had asked Hermione to the Ball.

"So anyway, you and Cho, huh?" I said in an effort to move past that hitch.

"Yup," Chang chirped happily, apparently relieved that the conversation had moved away from the task, "he asked me a week after the announcement. What about you? Waiting for the French champion? What was her name? Delacour?"

My eyes widened, "What? Why would I be?"

"Oh," she looked surprised, "Aren't you two together? It's what people are saying."

"No, we're not. Besides, she's a champion. Champions can't go together."

"They can't?"

"Is that a thing?" Said Cedric.

I shrugged, "Apparently. It's kind of weird, Fleur says that it's probably to keep us as competitors and not friends."

They shared a look and then turned towards me.

"So," started Chang, "who is coming with you then?"

"That would be me," I heard Katie's voice behind me before I saw her. She was wearing a dark red, long sleeved dress that looked like a knee long really well fitted shirt; and her blonde, wavy hair down. It suited her.

"Hey there Katie," I smiled at my teammate as she stood beside me.

From there the conversation flowed mostly thanks to Katie and Cho for a couple of minutes, I'll be the first to admit that between my nerves at dancing, and trying to catch a glimpse of Fleur I was not really paying attention.

That is until Katie elbowed me in the ribs and gestured towards the main stairs.

I glared at her and turned to look at what she so delicately tried to direct my attention to.

Atop the stairs a girl with a light blue dress started to descend, and as she got closer I could see that she was actually quite pretty. And I got the point when she got even nearer and I could distinguish that the face framed by that softly curling hair was that of non other than my best friend.

She waved and sent a small smile towards me on her way towards Krum.

Un-fucking-believable.

"Is that Granger?"

"She looks gorgeous, don't she?" Said Katie, sounding proud, if a bit amused, "I helped her with it."

"When did she get so- so-" words seemed to fail Cho in her quest to describe what, exactly, Hermione had become.

Cedric had the good sense to stay quiet as we all gawked after my bushy haired friend.

My no longer bushy haired friend.

Bizarre was the moment where she got to Krum's side and he... smiled.

A nice warm smile, even. On his normally surly face it sure looked strange, though it did flattered him.

That is until he caught me staring and his smile melted seamlessly into an aggressive frown. Talk about a one-eighty. Even Hermione looked at him strangely after that glare.

"What did you do now, 'Arry."

"I'm completely innocent this time," I said as I turned to my side, towards the exasperated voice of the one person I was waiting for.

There are times when I am just sitting by the fire with her, talking, or maybe reading a book, or moments when we are just walking side by side and I'll be looking at the road. In moments like those it just escapes my mind how devastatingly beautiful Fleur is.

The colourful light of the numerous candles floating above danced around on the shapes of her expertly sculptured figure, her deep blue dress a frame guiding the eyes with its shining embroidery, ever twisting and turning on the trim of-

As I noticed where my eyes where going I blushed and lifted my eyes, only for them to fall on the exposed valley of her long neck instead of her eyes.

Fuck.

With the utmost effort, all the while scolding myself, I managed a shy smile while locking eyes with her.

Her hand raised to her hip as she giggled, iridescent eyes shining full of mischief, "You are irréparable."

I blushed a bit more, but did as she would have and raised my chin, "So you keep saying, even though its your fault. I used to be quite the agreeable fellow, you know?"

This made Katie snort, and in turn it made me remember that we weren't alone in l'ermitage, this time. "You got into the Quidditch team by getting into a fight and then breaking the rule about flying unsupervised, Harry. You were never agreeable."

Everyone laughed at that, including me. To be honest I was quite proud of that. Even if at the time I was scared shitless of McGonagall and her punishment by the hand of Wood.

"That sounds quite like the 'Arry I 'ave gotten to know."

"Anyway," I interrupted, amidst the giggles of the three girls in our little group, "Katie, this is Fleur Delacour, fellow champion. Fleur this is Katie Bell, my teammate."

Katie held her hand out, "and his Date," she put on the brightest smile she could and leaned on me after shaking Fleur's hand. The smile on Fleur's face froze a bit.

"Yes, I 'ave noticed," I did not like that tone.

It was too even.

"So, where's your date? The Ball is about to start. You would not-"

"Katie!" I scolded in a whisper. Why was she being so rude?

"Oh, 'e should be around 'ere. I told 'im to meet me just before the start. What was 'is name?" she waved a hand as if trying to conjure a name out of thin air, "Rocher?"

"Roger? Roger Davies?" Said Chang.

"Oui, that's the one. You know 'im?"

"Yes, he is the captain of my house's Quidditch team."

Everything got pretty weird, pretty fast. Katie and Fleur were having some kind of stare-down, only with plastic smiles instead of frowns, and Cedric and Cho were looking alternatively at us and then at each other. I had even forgotten about Hermione and Krum, which were by the looks of it chatting amicably a bit farther away.

Fortunately, or maybe not so much, Professor McGonagall came through the crowd at that moment.

"Champions, if I could have your attention please. The Ball is about to begin, the doors to the room will be opened in a few minutes for everyone else to enter; you however will stay outside with your partners," at this she shot a pointed look at Fleur, who summarily ignored it, "Then the herald will call for the champions in the same order that you completed the first task. You will then enter and take the position marked for you and your partner and -oh!"

"Hello professor," interrupted a tall, handsome man who looked vaguely familiar from the Quidditch pitch. He walked towards Fleur and stood by her side, putting a hand on her back.

"You are late, Mr. Davies. I was explaining the protocol."

" 'e is precisely when 'e was requested."

I think I'm never going to stop feeling in danger when McGonagall purses her lips as she did in that moment, but I guess that Fleur was not conditioned to recognize the sign.

"In any case, after you are announced and enter, take the spot marked for you and wait for the music of the opening dance. After the music stops, take the places marked by the hanging banners at the head table."

She raised her hand and the giant double doors opened smoothly. The move was so natural and fluid that I almost didn't noticed the wand in her hand. And later I couldn't see where it disappeared to.

Whit a dismissing nod, McGonagall entered the brightly illuminated room and left us standing in front of the door, the crowd slowly moving around us to get inside too.

Krum and Hermione had come closer when McGonagall was explaining what we were to do, and for some reason Krum kept looking at me like I had kicked his puppy. What's up with that?

I tried to share a look with Fleur to point out to her the weird behaviour of our competitor, but as soon as I managed to catch her eye Katie elbowed me in the ribs and shoot me an excessively bright smile.

Needless to say, I was lost in this particular game of charades.

Krum was trying to make me ignite with a glare, Katie was acting strange and hanging from my arm as if she couldn't stand on her own, Fleur was avoiding my eyes now and I was starting to get miffed by how this Roger bloke was eyeing her.

At least Hermione looked as confused as I did. The only ones acting normal where Cedric and Cho who where whispering to each other and generally being disgustingly sweet.

"Harry!" Katie pulled my arm from where she was hanging on.

"Sorry, what?"

"I was asking how well did the lessons go."

I blinked, still not really into the conversation, "what lessons?"

"The dancing ones. With McGonagall."

"Oh! Well... Not good, but not terrible either," I ruffled my hair a bit, "It just takes a lot of practice to get it right, and I've been right distracted, which doesn't help matters."

"I'll have to lead then," she sighed.

"You dance?" For some reason I could not imagine rough, tomboyish Katie, who always had calloused hands and bruises on her arms dancing away in a puffy dress.

"Oh yes, my dad taught me, he loves to dance. It's part our bonding time. Dancing with him is one of first things I can to remember. I had to stand on his feet," her face softened into a small smile, and the image of a tiny blonde girl with dirt on her knees and grass on her hair tottering in circles made me smile too.

"I never would have guessed."

She shrugged still looking at the crowd, and still leaning on me, "He's a gentle man. Loves music and stuff like that, he would have an apoplexy if he saw me flying at a game," she smirked, "or even worse, if he saw you. Now come here, everyone is almost inside."

Indeed, the tail of the crowd was slowly disappearing through the double doors. Cedric chose that moment to look between Katie and me and throw me a wink only to be elbowed by Chang. I wisely chose to ignore them.

Fleur passed by me without as much as a glance, her posture as proud and regal as I had ever seen her, and stood in front of the double doors with her… date, hanging from her arm.

"Stop frowning, you almost look like Krum," Katie pulled on my arm and guided me towards the place we were supposed to stand.

"I most certainly do not," I protested, "I'm not even frowning. Why would I be frowning anyway?"

I received only a sigh in response.

"And what did you do to Krum? He looks ready to kill you and drink wine from your skull."

I stared at her. did she really said that?

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Never mind," I said as i shook my head slightly, "little weirdo."

"What was that?" she frowned.

"Nothing. And I did nothing to him. Not that I'm aware at least."

"You are not aware of a great many deal of things, Harry."

"Hey!"

"It's true," I huffed.

"And what's the deal with you and Fleur? You are both acting strange."

"See? you are clueless," she pressed herself against me even more and batted her eyelashes at me, a bright smile adorning her face, "I'm making her jealous."

"What? Are you insane what for? And jealous of what?" She merely looked at me as if I was being purposefully dense and lifted a brow, "Of me?" I shook my head, "That won't work, she wont get jealous because of me," but even as I said it I paled a bit, imagining the fireballs that a scorned Fleur could cast, "and she is too proud to fall for that."

"Hailing from the famed Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, I present Fleur Delacour and her companion, Roger Davies of the House of Ravenclaw."

The queue moved a spot as first Fleur entered the hall, then Cedric and Cho, and then Krum and Hermione all of whom were announced in the same way, leaving Katie and I on the threshold.

The path from the entrance was made up by a long black carpet that extended up to the centre of the Great Hall, where a circular platform, of what looked like white marble from this distance, had been erected.

"Taught by this very school and competing in his own name, Harry James of the House of Potter and his companion Catherine Bell of the House of Gryffindor."

That was strange. They didn't introduce me as a Hogwarts student for starters, and...

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone call you Catherine before."

She made a face while still maintaining her smile, which was impressive to be honest, "Well that would be because my name is actually Katie. Its not short for anything, but I guess they though it sounded too informal. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Well, my Lady Catherine of the House of Lions, we wouldn't want the peasants to confuse you for one of them, huh?"

She held back a laugh, "That's one posh accent you have there."

"It's the tone my uncle uses when he has a business dinner at the house."

"What a dickhead."

I coughed to avoid cackling.

The dance floor was indeed a raised disk of marble in the centre of the Great Hall. The other three couples where standing each in a particular quarter of the platform, and as we climbed it I could see that the floor was marked with a coat of arms under each champion.

Mine was a shield cut in two by a lightning bolt. Cute.

The Headmasters and organizers were sitting at the head table and after a moment Dumbledore stood up and used his wand to clink a crystal cup that appeared in his hand within the same movement. I blinked. That was pretty damn smooth.

"Attention all," he opened his arms to the hall, as if trying to embrace us all, "Welcome, Ladies and gentleman, students and more importantly, welcome to you dear guests. May this first part of your visit have been a pleasant one, and may what remains of our time together be even better."

He took a long pause and I used it to look around me. Towards my friends, to foreigners that didn't look so out of place anymore, to the castle itself and how different and full of life it was compared to other years. And to my new friend.

I caught her eyes and we exchanged a small smile.

And we weren't the only ones to do so. Everyone took that moment to admire the things that the tournament had brought.

"We are here today as you all know, to celebrate this beautiful winter day with a ball. Or at least I hope you all know it, otherwise things are going to get a bit awkward," a few laughs swept through the room, "We celebrate the day with the hope of the next, we celebrate this winter as it gives way to beautiful spring, we celebrate with old friends amongst the new. Today we rejoice in change and new beginnings, and it is in the darkest of our days that we can revel, for only light can come after," he smiled at all of us, "In short, we celebrate the death of the old and its rebirth."

As soon as the last word fell from his lips a flash of fire exploded over him, and as the light cleared, on his shoulder, stood Fawkes, his wings stretched open in a pose that oozed majesty.

The hall exploded in applause.

"That was wicked!" exclaimed and exited Katie next to me as she clapped almost violently.

"I don't know which of the two are more of a diva, him or Fawkes," though I had to give to them both, I thought as I clapped, it was a nice opening to the ball

"That's the name of that bird?"

"Yeah. Though 'bird' is a bit of an ugly word to use for a phoenix, don't you think?"

"Well, yes but-"

"And what better way to celebrate," continued Dumbledore as the hall quieted, "than sending the night off with the strum of well corded strings and the sweeps of beautiful dresses."

He waved his wand once more, materializing a set of musical instruments. From the crowd, five wizards dressed in matching back and white robes climbed to the dance floor and took the instruments. Katie took my hand then, making me jump a bit. She gestured to the others and I spied Ced and Cho holding onto each other, ready to dance. I took the cue and readied myself.

The Bass was the first to strum, and with them came the light but insistent push of someone who actually knew what she was doing as Katie determinedly stepped into the dance.

I let myself be led, lightly swaying in time to the strings.

"You are awfully tense, you know?" said Katie, "I can feel it here," she pinched my shoulder blade where she was resting her hand, making me jump out of time.

"Yeah, well. I'm not all that good at this, you know?"

She giggled and closed her eyes, "Just listen to the music, Harry. Feel it and let it move you. Feel my hand, the one that you are holding. You'll feel how I'm going to move there."

I breathed in and loosened up as much as I could, and then I felt a small pull on my hand. I responded, and sure enough we moved in that direction. Then came a step to the side and another pull, another step and a push.

I smiled a bit and let the tide of strings take me.

"See? It ain't that hard, innit?"

"I suppose not," I whispered.

"Good. Step with the toes, though."

"Like this?" It felt faster like this.

"Yep," She opened her eyes and smiled. I smiled back and turned to look at the others. And promptly stepped on her foot.

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

"Eyes on me, Mister. If you move your head around you'll loose sense of where I am."

"Like on a broom? The body goes to where the head looks."

She smiled, "Wood would be proud you can quote him."

I scoffed, "It would be worrying if I couldn't. Gods know he repeats himself enough."

We were slowly moving along the edge of the circular dais, though I dared not look again how close of far were the other champions.

"Now, keep doing this same steps. I'm going to spin."

"You are going to what?"

It was so fast that I could do nothing, but watch as she spun outwards. Fortunately I did not trip.

Her smile was a testament to how much she was enjoying the dance, her hair bouncing with each step.

The music became more intense, and with it Katie became more daring. I limited myself to the same basic steps that I had been repeating for the last minutes, while she swayed and spun, swift and graceful.

"Get ready, Its about to end."

This was the part of the dance that McGonagall had put more emphasis on.

And so as the the first silence came I stepped firm and Katie, taking creative liberties, unfurled in a spin until we were side to side our arms extended and only our fingers touching. The orchestra sung again in time with her retreat into my embrace, and another silence. At last, she dipped into the last strum of the violins.

The rest of the room broke into applause as we recovered. She held my hand and made a curtsy which forced me into an awkward bow.

Dumbledore kept clapping until he was the only one doing so.

"And now, after that magnificent opening, let us feast!" He clapped again and a carpet materialized from the foot of the dance floor up to the head table.

Taking it for the invitation it was we went up to it and sat, once again, at places marked for us with the same coat of arms.

Dumbledore sat at the middle of the table, with McGonagall to his right and then Cedric -as Hogwarts champion- with Cho. I was right next to them with Katie to my right, Then came Fleur and her partner and then Krum and Hermione with several ministry officials claiming the end of the table.

The other headmasters and teachers where to the left of Dumbledore, presumably in a similar order to us.

A cluster of tables appeared atop the dance floor at Dumbledore's behest and started floating slowly to the places where they would rest for the remainder of the night, the people moving out of the way and sitting in those that had stopped moving. I smiled at the simple show, Dumbledore always had a way to make magic seem... well, magical.

"You are right," Katie whispered in my ear, "he's a diva," and then giggled to herself.

I looked around the hall with a bit more focus than I had allowed myself before. The four traditional christmas trees had been relegated to the corners of the room, and the hundreds of floating candles were now decorated with colourful bows. A few pixies were flying around too, sprinkling a shiny dust here and there as they flew. I don't know if that was a good idea, considering their mischievous tendencies, but they appeared to be behaving.

The numerous small round tables that replaced the normal four long ones made the room look completely different from normal as did the sheer amount of people, and the multitude of colours that they wore.

One thing was missing though. The food. The golden plates were still shiny and clean, well, mine at least, for Cho and Cedric were already eating.

"You don't happen to know where the food is, do you?" I asked Katie, who shrugged. My eyes landed then on Fleur, who merely rose a brow.

"Oie de la Saint-Michel," she said while looking me in the eye. Her plate filled with some sort off roasted meat and she, smirking, turned her attention to Davies who said something to her. Something that she didn't like judging by how her shoulders tensed.

"Apparently you seduce your dish into existence," I almost cackled at Katie, who shook her head and started reading her menu.

"Roasted beef?" I said to my plate, and sure enough something appeared in it.

"I think this is duck," I poke it with the fork.

"Well, you did sound more like you were asking a question, not ordering a dish."

I shrugged. It was roasted, and it looked really good. I had gone with far worse at the Dursley's.

The meal went by in relative calm, and quite quickly. Katie focused on her food as if she had just played a Quidditch match, though with much more grace than say, Ron. Not that it was particularly difficult, that. Cho seemed to be as focused on Cedric as Krum was on Hermione, who was speaking quite passionately about something that I couldn't hear.

Davies, on the other hand, was just staring at Fleur. And by that I mean that he was quite literally holding his head in his hand and watching her with his complete focus, a small, stupid smile on his face.

She continued eating as if he was not there.

"That's creepy as all hells."

Katie looked at me and then turned to where I was looking.

"What the- What is he doing?"

"Beats me."

"It happens from time to time," said Fleur while looking at her plate, "It'll pass."

"If you are sure," said Katie sounding completely unconvinced.

"Come on!" said Katie as she pulled on my hand, "Lets dance again."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

She rolled her eyes and pulled me to my feet, after which I could do nothing more than follow.

"I want to speak with you before you make your daring escape with your princess," She giggled.

"It's not like that, Katie. I've already told you, We are just friends."

"And precisely that is what I wanted to speak about," we were one of just a few more couples dancing to the slow music that accompanied dinner, "You are not just friends. Even if neither of you seem capable of accepting it."

"I-"

"I mean you are always making eyes at each other and sharing goofy smiles,"

"I'm not goofy!"

"And you are always together like, there is a rumour that you sleep in the carriage."

"What?"

"Well, no one knows where you are staying except that is not in Gryffindor's tower, or any other of the house dorms for that matter. And don't deny it, you like her."

"No duh, like every other bloke."

The hand that she was resting on my shoulder flew in a precise arc towards my head and back, "Ow."

"No, Harry. Not like every other bloke. I mean yeah, most everyone fancies her, but look at those legs. Even I'd tap that."

"Katie!"

"Point is, that if you were sitting there next to her you wouldn't be like Roger Mccreepy there. You would probably have given her shit for criticizing the Yule decorations and she would have laughed."

I smiled, "Yeah, she'd say that a 'barbare' like me wouldn't know, in the thickest accent she could manage."

"See? you have a goofy smile already."

"All right, I do like her. What of it? Just look at her. It's not going to happen."

She sighed and lead me in a few spins around the dance floor.

"You sell yourself too short, Harry. But that's not something that I can help you see. Ponder this, though, have you ever seen her smile at anyone like she does at you? Has she ever not made time to be with you?"

I stayed silent, shuffling around almost gracelessly now.

"Why are you so set on this?"

She shrugged and looked away, "We have lived and played together for four years now, Harry. I've seen all the things that seem to happen to you year after year, I've seen... we have all seen your scars. On the team's changing rooms. We know you don't speak about it, but we- well, we are not stupid. And maybe I think that you deserve a bit of happiness after all that."

We danced in silence then. What was I to say? This was a part of me that I buried deep, something that I didn't think about while I'm in this new world. I never expect anyone to notice, and what she said sounded too much like pity.

"She is not some prize to be earned." I whispered.

"And I know that, what kind of person do you think I am?" She frowned, "look, I don't know her, but even I can see that she has her fair share of problems too, and she looks like a whole other person when she is with you. I think you are good for each other, am I that wrong?"

Katie sighed and looked into my eyes again, "Despite all that happened this year, I think I've never seen you happier. And she is obviously happier when she is with you too. I just wanted to give you a small push."

We were quiet after that, shuffling around the room while I thought. I knew that I was falling for Fleur, I knew since that moment after the first task, but anything beyond that is not something that I've even let myself consider. And with the pain of loosing a friend so fresh still... it's not something I wanted to subject myself to again.

The song ended before I could find an answer to my dilemma. I suspect that it would had been the same had the song lasted for another hour. I looked at Katie as we stopped our dancing and she smiled as brightly as I had ever seen her, "So, this is were I'll leave you. I think I see Alicia by the drinks," she smiled once more and went towards our friend.

"Hey, Katie," she turned, "Thank you."

"Nonsense, I had a great time."

I stared after her for a few seconds as she strutted towards Alicia, who was laughing at something Fred or George had said, when someone bumped into me. More couples had joined in the dancing and I was just standing there, about as conveniently placed as a Wednesday's appointment so I scurried towards the head table before I drew more attention, or more lost elbows.

Fleur was still sitting at the head table eating some kind of tart covered in powdered sugar and staring straight ahead while Davies spoke to her, still in the exact same position he had been when I last saw him.

I never thought I would ever see Fleur frown while eating something sweet. I may still be confused about what Katie said, but no matter what I thought about it, she clearly could use some help. As much as it would be really fun to see that stupid smile of his charred off.

I shook my head and headed towards her; maybe I should just stop thinking so much, It's never been one of my strong points. Let things go on their own accord.

That sounded almost Dumbledory.

"Oh, look," I said as I came before her, "If it isn't the sweet's scourge."

Her eyes turned to me before slowly focusing in the span of a couple of blinks before smiling in recognition, "I'm sorry, Monsieur, I was mesmerized by my companion's tale and didn't 'ear you. Did you call me a sweet scourge?"

I rolled my eyes and fought the smile that was raising to my lips, "Close enough. Say, would you like to dance? When you finish your meal that is. And if you don't mind, of course," I said as I turned to Davies, who completely ignored me.

" 'e does not mind," she got up promptly and cleaned her sugared lips with a napkin, "let's dance then, Chevalier."

Fleur was up and around the table in less time than it took his unfortunate date to realize he was speaking to an empty seat, and down the steps towards the open area of the hall in the time that it took me to shake the realization that the back of her dress was cut in a similar way to the front. I shook myself and went after her, catching up in an open area near the windows overlooking the grounds.

"It took you long enough," her brow furrowed in that cute way that always managed to make me smile, "that buffoon was driving me mad."

"That bad?"

"Ugh, 'e made me leave those delicious little cakes 'alf eaten!"

"No! What a monster!"

Her lips quivered, hiding a smile, "Shut up and dance."

Slowly she came close and I held her like I did Katie. Only she was not Katie, a fact that no part of me made any effort to ignore. The drum of a heart that was completely out of tempo accompanied my first steps as I attempted to lead her, mi fingers barely brushing the silky softness of her dress, and her even softer hand.

We tumbled to the left and right a couple of times and I kept looking at our feet, trying to follow hers and then remembering that it was I the one who was supposed to lead.

I raised my eyes to her giggle and saw her biting her lip in a half smile that looked suspiciously like a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want, I'm terrible at this."

And laugh she did. Not loud, no, just giggles, but in the uncontrollable manner of someone being tickled.

"We. We are terrible, mon ami. I think we 'ave found our bane. La Valse," she breathed and covered her eyes with the back of her hand before promptly resuming her giggles, "Dieux et héros, I 'ope we didn't look like this when we opened the Ball."

I shrugged, "Katie lead me, she's really god at this."

Her good humour faded in an instant, her smile dropping slowly, "Yes. She is magnifique. Where is she now, by the way."

"Don't know," I said slowly while checking her face, trying to make sense of her sudden change of tone, "She was going to spend the rest of the ball with our other friends, I think."

She only hummed in response, still trying to steer our fumbling around.

"I have the impression you don't particularly like her."

"Why wouldn't I? She is a beautiful girl and dances like a gazelle. She seems like the perfect company. Besides, I do not really know 'er, do I?"

"I suppose. You made a good impression on her though."

"Oh?"

I shrugged, "She said as much," In the tense silence that followed I decided that it would be better to change the theme, "I heard that you don't enjoy the decorations."

"They are nice, I'm just... missing 'ome?"

"Homesick," I prompted.

"Oui," she said as she rested her temple against mine, "I miss the palace, it's always beautiful in winter. And this would 'ave been the first time I 'ave Gabby with me in Beauxbatons."

"Your little sister, right?" She nodded, "You spend the holidays in Beauxbatons?"

"Non. I always go back 'ome but the decorations stay from November all the way to February. I always wanted to share them with 'er and this is 'er first year, I know she would love the ice statues enchantées."

"As long as she is not like you and tries to eat them."

"You are awful," she said with a laugh.

"There is always next year, right?"

"'Arry?"

"Yes?"

"I'm in my last year."

"Oh. I... forgot," what an idiot.

"It's okay. I forget it too, sometimes. It's a shame this competition fell on this year in particular, I always thought I would be with 'er on 'er first year. It can be difficult to... adapt."

"Tell me about it," I chucked, "I didn't even know magic existed until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"Really!"

"Until almost a month after I got the first letter, actually."

"'ow is that possible?" she breathed, "I can't imagine 'Arry Potter not knowing about magic. Everyone in our world knows about you, 'ow could you not know about us?."

"I live with my aunt and her husband and lets say they don't like magic, to put it blandly. They are muggles, my mother was the magical one. Do you want to drink something? I'm kinda getting tired of all this stumbling around."

She laughed at that and stepped away, "Oui, lets go."

"So," I began as we walked towards the drinks table, "We were having breakfast when we got my first Hogwarts letter, I-" I stumbled a bit at the memory, there were details of the story that I had no intention to share. Not now at least, "I had gotten the mail that day. We muggles get all the letters delivered together at the door based on the house's address, you see, so I had other letters that were for my aunt and uncle. As soon as they saw that I had gotten something they got suspicious since i didn't normally got anything on the mail, and they took it before I could read it," I grinned then, "My uncle almost had an apoplexy when he read it."

"But I don't get it," Fleur said as she examined the drinks on the table, "Your aunt must 'ave known 'er sister was a witch, and that 'er 'usband was magical too. Surely it was not a surprise that you 'ad magic too. And what about the... douleurs de croissance."

"You do know that I don't speak French, don't you?" I said slowly.

"You know, when children cast without knowing. I refuse to believe someone like you never did that."

"Oh, accidental magic? Well yes, I had my fair share of problems because of it. When I got the letter I finally understood why they always blamed me for the strange things that happened around me."

"So she knew you 'ad magic. She could 'ave told 'er 'usband without getting in trouble with the law, why did she not?"

"I am pretty sure she did," she looked at me with her brow furrowed in clear confusion as she passed me a cup filled with a dark red liquid.

"But then why was 'e surprised? And why did they not tell you what you were?"

I looked at the cup and sighed deeply, swirling the liquid around and watching the lights reflect on the inky surface, "I suppose they hoped the letter would not arrive and they could continue to live as normal. Like I said they didn't like magic, not one bit."

"It's a good thing that the letters are written by a charm on birth," she took a sip of her own cup.

"And that they send so many," I smiled and tasted the drink she had given me. It was fruity but at the same time tart and it made my mouth a bit dry, weirdly, "What's this."

"What passes for red wine in this country," she waved away the question, "What do you mean 'so many'? There is only one letter."

"Maybe is different in France," I shrugged, "I must have gotten well over 200 letters delivered to all the different places my uncle tried to hide into until Hagrid personally found me and handed me one."

She just stood there mouth gaping in search of words until she huffed and chugged her drink in one gulp before refilling it and taking a more measured sip.

"There is zo, so much wrong in that sentence that I don't even know where to start."

"You do look a bit overwhelmed," her cheeks and nose had tinted a pretty rosy colour too. Her neck too... and-

"'Arry, first of all its not different in France, it's an international law. Every magical born must be notified of 'is 'eritage and 'is options for schooling prior to getting to the age in which said schooling would begin."

"Even Pure-bloods? It feels a bit redundant, that."

"Yes. Everyone, even pure-bloods," she made a face at the word, "Second, they only send one letter. In France you are free to contact the school of your choosing, and if your family 'as been in the same school for several generations, like mine, that school tends to sent you an invitation. If you don't answer its thought to be a refusal. Maybe that part is different 'ere," she conceded, "but... two 'undred letters seems excessive. And there is the fact that your family ran and 'id so that you would not get the letters, is that right?"

I merely nodded and took another sip of the wine,

"c'est irréel!" She exclaimed and lifted her arms with such force that her wine spilled and the people close to us turned to glare at her for the jump-scare, "'ow could tzhey try to 'ide something zo important!"

"Hey calm down," I put a hand to her shoulder, "It was long ago, and I'm here, am I not? So in the end it worked out well. Besides," I smirked, "My pig of a cousin became more of a literal pig that day thanks to Hagrid, so it was well worth it."

She laughed at that, "Who is this 'agrid?"

"The beau of your Headmistress," I bumped her shoulder and she laughed again.

"The big man? the gardien?"

"If that means groundskeeper, then yes."

"So that is 'ow you know 'im," she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah. We've been friends since. He gave me Hedwig as a birthday present."

"I would never 'ave guessed. 'e does not seem that caring of a person."

"What do you mean?"

"'e seems... rough."

"Nah, he is a gentle giant. His only problem is that he sometimes forgets that we are not all as... durable as him. Never try and eat one of his cakes, tempted as you surely would be."

"I sense a story there," she tittered.

I shrugged and sipped a bit more of wine, surprising myself as the cup emptied with it. Even so, the colour was so strong that the path of it on the glass was still clear.

"You know?" I said, while still examining the cup, "You could always sneak in."

"Pardon?" I turned to look at her, her face was tilted in curiosity, the lock of hair she had tucked away falling again in a daring escape.

"To see your sister in Beauxbatons. You could sneak in next year, what can they do if they even find you? You would no longer be a student."

"I could go to jail?" she said, not sounding too sure.

"For eating chocolate with your sister? Not likely."

Her gaze softened as her lips arched into a tender smile, "You know, Mon petit chou," she extender her hand and caressed my cheek, making me have a mini heart attack, "I should stop calling you Chevalier, you are clearly a little rascal."

I smiled widely thinking how proud Sirius would be of that, "How is it in French?"

Now it was her turn to smile like the moon, "Coquin. Petit coquin."

"Whokan?"

"Close enough," she mocked in the same way I had before.

Her placid expression turned to something close to panic, her eyes widening at something over my shoulder. Naturally I turned sharply, expecting something far worse than just a smiling Roger Davies.

"So, my beautiful lady. What about a walk around the gardens?" he made a small bow to accompany his suave tone.

"We 'ad an accord, Davies."

His face soured at her response, "You are my date, Delacour. Now stop being difficult and let's go."

She looked at him incredulously for a moment, I reached for my wand just in case I had to shield her fast.

Or put out a fire, which was just as likely.

"You planned to convince me to stay with you," she said in a whisper, and shook her head, "That's the only reason you accepted, did you not? You expected to change my mind."

"I didn't expect for you to actually dump me in front of everyone" I could hear his teeth grind as he said it.

"I am not 'dumping you.' I was very clear with you, if you thought it would be shameful for you, you could just 'ave said no."

His hand moved, but I was quicker, and my wand was pointing to his chest before he manage to even reach his pocket. To my surprise, Fleur's wand was just as quick as mine. We locked eyes for a fraction of a second and I lowered mine.

"It would be better if you left, big boy. You are quite a bit smaller than a dragon."

He stood for a moment, a snarl in his face, until he brusquely turned and left, pushing everyone in his haste.

"Merde!" Fleur exclaimed an crossed her arms, "I was so stupid."

"Why you say that?" I pocketed my wand again, Davies was almost at the door to the Great Hall.

"I believed 'is act. I explicitly told 'im I was not interested in anything beyond opening the ball," she sighed, "I though 'e was like Cedric because they are friends and 'e is as well regarded as Cedric is. Turns out 'e is just another entitled... Prat!"

I barked a laugh and she gave me the evil eye, "Don't laugh at this, 'Arry, please. I'm upset," Her arms tightened around herself.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I put an arm around her, trying to comfort her, "I just love when you use English insults. Its... adorable."

She smiled and leaned into the half embrace, "Prat."

I laughed again.

"Besides, it's not your fault. Most of the time its hard to know what is on our own heads, how can you blame yourself for not knowing what goes on in someone else's?"

She stayed silent for a while after that.

"Yes, you are right," she stood straight again and smiled at me, "Those talks with your 'eadmaster are working, I see."

"I suppose," I chuckled and ruffled my hair, "He does have a way with words."

"Harry!" I turned towards the sound and saw and out of breath Cedric walking towards us, Cho holding his hand.

"What a party, eh?" she said as she grabbed a glass of wine for her and one for her companion.

"It looks like you two are enjoying yourselves," said Fleur, and as I took in their disheveled appearance I had to agree.

"I haven't seen you two out there too much," he inclined his head towards the dance floor.

"Consider yourself lucky then," I said, making Fleur laugh.

"'Arry and I just discovered that we are really not good at dancing."

"That's a shame," said Cho, "the music has been really good so far, my feet are starting to hurt though so I needed a break. I do have to say, I love your dress,"

"Thank you," Fleur smiled, "Its not often that I get to dress like this."

"So, Harry, now that the ladies are distracted," he whispered, "may I speak to you?"

"Yeah, sure."

He moved a bit away from Cho and Fleur, who threw a questioning glance in my direction. I shrugged and followed him.

"You know," he said, "I don't think I've thanked you for letting me know about the dragons, like properly thank you."

"There is no need Ced, it was nothing," I waved him off

"Merlin's saggy left ball it was nothing. I'd be dead as door nail for sure had I not known about them. Look, mate, if all the rumours I've heard are true, then I can say that you just don't understand what it's like for a normal bloke like me to be in a situation like that."

"A normal bloke?" I frowned, what was that supposed to mean.

"Harry, this summer I was helping my father clean a small shed we have and we found an infestation of flesh eating slugs. I was out running screaming like a child and shaking the goo of my clothes like they were on fire. Do you get my point?"

I chuckled imagining the scene, "Still, I only gave you a day to prepare."

"Yes, but you had the same amount of time," he took a deep breath, "When I got out of the tent and saw that huge thing just pacing around the eggs... I froze. I stood there like an idiot for like ten seconds just looking at it. Had I not known beforehand... well," he pointed to his scared face, "You get the idea."

"I'm just glad we all made it out okay."

"So am I. I'm still surprised there were no more injuries, even this scars are not that bad, Madam Pomfrey says they'll fade in a few months," He gestured with his hands, "But anyway, that is not what I wanted to talk about. How are you doing with your golden egg?"

I grimaced involuntarily at the mere mention of the sodding egg.

"That bad, huh?"

"I about had it with the screeching after a couple days. I was waiting for after the Ball to actually try and figure it out, but so far no clue."

"I cracked it already," he smiled, "by accident granted, but still."

"Well cheers for you mate."

"Oh, none of that, I plan on return your favour. See, the only thing you have to do is open it underwater."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely, just submerge it and open it. Well, you have to dunk your head too, otherwise you wont hear anything but that's basically it."

"How did you even figure that out? I mean, its pretty... out there."

He laughed and looked away, his hand going to his neck, "It's a bit embarrassing to be honest. I had been working on it for hours and didn't manage to get anything beyond that mindless screaming, I got really mad at one point and chucked as far away as I could. It landed on a pool, you see. When I dove to retrieve it the screaming didn't sound so mindless any more. Hell, it did not sounded like screaming at all."

"Where did you even find a pool? I've never seen one in the castle."

"Why, in the prefect's baths, of course," he looked towards where Fleur and Cho were chatting and then turned towards me with an evil smile, "You know, since I have no doubt you'll go on and tell Fleur all of this, I'll give you the password to the baths too. So you can tell her right proper, give her a demonstration," is he really waggling his eyebrows?

"Oh come on, not you too," I pinched the bridge of my nose while he let out a guffaw.

"Everyone can't be wrong at the same time, Harry. In any case, poke the door with your wand *heh* and say 'Pinefresh,' you'll hear the click of the lock."

"Alright, I'll be sure to remember. Thank you, Cedric, I did not meant you to owe me anything by telling you about the task."

"Nonsense," he waved, "it's only fair. Now if you'll excuse me, I intend to make the most of this ball," in a couple of steps he reached Cho and pulled her into away from her conversation with Fleur directly into a spin and a dance; to her delight if her giggles were to be believed.

I chuckled at Fleur's surprised look, "You should see your face."

She turned towards me, "Sorry, that was pretty abrupt. Charmant, though."

She looked at our fellow champions dance and laugh. I took another glass of wine and sipped it as I took her in. Fleur's chiselled features made her an intimidating creature, beautiful beyond compare but also sharp and cold. I am always surprised at how that changes with the simplest of smiles, a change that I could watch entranced any amount of time.

I shook my head, trying to clear it from shining gold and high cheekbones, "Do you want to dance some more, Fleur?"

She turned towards me, her soft smile morphing into something more mischievous, "You only want an excuse to 'old me again, 'Arry," her amusement was clear on her voice.

I felt the blush rise an turned towards wee Cedric and Cho were in an effort to conceal it. I don't even know why I offered when we are both clearly pants at dancing.

Her hand stretched towards me, "Come on then."

I raised an eyebrow at her, "I thought..."

"Well, I need an excuse to let you, no?" rosy cheeks adorned her lively countenance. Her eyes looked so hauntingly blue by contrast.

I took her hand and broke into a smile, walking towards a less cluttered part of the hall were we could stumble around inanely to our hearts content.

* * *

Maybe it was the wine, but right know I did not care how stupid we may look stumbling around in circles no longer trying even to imitate the proper steps. I just knew that I was having more fun that I could remember, not worrying about a single thing but for the smile of my... friend.

The songs were faster now. Had been for a while already, and the sheer energy of the moment had figuratively taken my breath away more than once, and as much as I didn't want it I needed a breather.

Fleur understood as I pulled her towards a table and followed me. I think that the chocolates arranged in the middle of said table had something to do with her willingness, and had she not been already flushed from the physical exertion she would have blushed when I noticed that. It make me smile that nothing softened her as that little secret of hers.

We did not talk for a while, the music was to loud now for it to be a comfortable experience anyway, but it did not bother me. it was strange, in a good way, to be able to share one of our comfortable silences among all this ruckus.

The scrape of a chair drew my attention as Hermione fell with a huff in it, as flushed and breathless as Fleur and I had been before.

"Hello there," she to me with a smile, "Fleur, evening."

"Ça va, 'ermione?"

"Really good," She laughed, "I honestly did not expect to have such a good time. I am so tired though, I've done little more than dance. Not that I'm complaining mind you, I love dancing, but I'm not nearly as fit as Victor."

She was babbling, as she tends to do when she is embarrassed. The last part of her tirade made me snicker though.

"So, Victor is fit then?"

She flushed even more, "Oh, you know what I meant you git."

Fleur giggled and repeated 'git' under her breath.

"In any case, where is 'Viktor?'"

"He went for some drinks. I told him I would be here."

"Speaking of him. Do you know why he glared at me like that? You know, before. When we where waiting to enter the hall."

"I don't know. I found it strange too, but he has not said anything to me."

"Maybe he is jealous of you, 'arry."

"What?"

"Well, you are quite close to 'ermione 'ere."

I laughed, "Then be careful, Fleur. You too tried to steal her away from him too."

At this point Hermione's complexion may have already changed permanently and she covered her face with a hand. She was smiling though.

"Well, mon voyeur, I think I see Viktor coming. Maybe we should..."

"Make ourselves scarce?"

"Oui."

"Agreed," I said as I got up and offered my hand to her. She took it -along some pieces of confectionery- and with a wave to my old friend, we went.

I let myself be guided now, not really having any preference towards were to go. Fleur offered one of her 'bonbons' as she called them and we kept walking towards the entrance of the hall, munching on filled chocolates.

"Where are we going?"

"Outside. Do you mind? I would like to 'ave some fresh air."

I smiled, "Not at all."

There was some people in the entrance hall talking in small groups, taking advantage of the relative quiet outside off the Great Hall. A lot of eyes followed us as we got towards the castle's gates but I had long learned to ignore the discomfort that came with such attention, something I had in common with the woman walking beside me.

And so, with a look towards her face, eyes smiling, we walked through the doors and into the chilly air.


	14. Chapter 14

_ **Chapter 14** _

_ **Of Questions and Answers... and ** _ ** _Questions_ ** ****

* * *

As Fleur and I stepped out of the castle one thing struck me immediately.

How different the grounds looked.

Calling them 'grounds' felt somewhat dismissive, even.

Gardens. Gardens seemed like a far more appropriate word.

The delicate way in which the scores of rose bushes were arranged through the newly minted garden, creating a narrow path dimly illuminated with warm lighted road lamps peppered with sculpted benches, told me Hagrid clearly had help in this. As much as I love the man, I know he would not think of something so well organized. A practical man, he is.

"Pretty, is it not?" said Fleur before turning her gaze towards the Carriage, "I am not sure about the maze though."

I looked at her prettily furrowed brow and followed her, and true enough, a maze of carefully trimmed, shoulder height bushes had been erected, leaving the Beauxbatons carriage at the center and apparently surrounding it in a circular manner.

I couldn’t help but cackle as I imagined a miffed Fleur trying to navigate the maze while letting out English expletives, "It's a wonder you weren't late to the ball. Well, not more than usual any way."

She smirked and slapped my shoulder, "Ah, 'ush. It’s called being élégamment late," she said striking a posh pose which made us both chuckle, "In truth, it is not a difficult thing to maneuver. It just makes you walk around and around instead of walking straight to the castle. Took me ten minutes to get out of the odieux thing."

"It is pretty enough, though," I said, playing on her weakness for bonny things.

"Oui, that I will not deny. At least they used a nice climate charm, so it was not a chilly walk. It's remarkable ‘ow they manage to enchant such a big, open space. And with such an aggressive environment."

"You are right! Can't believe I did not notice straight away," Fleur stood, her hand waving patterns in the air and her gaze focused.

With a slight start she shook off the trance and gave me a small smile, “You should work on your… touch, for charms and enchantments, mon petit,” she sighed, “If the gardens are beautiful, the magic weaved for it is even more so.”

“There is enough beauty here for me, as it is.”

I do not know what compelled me to say such a thing, and I felt the urge to shut up even as the words left my mouth.

For a second, panic filled me. But then a rosy cheeked smile and a quick sidelong glance of her bright eyes smothered the feeling. At least that particular one.

With nary a word she started on the path, not looking like she was heading anywhere in particular. Then again, I didn’t know where I was going, or even where I wanted to go.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Harry. You may even believe it.

For a while our only company was the sound of her dress as it dragged on the floor and the comforting sizzle of the lamps. Alas, peace is seldom long lived.

The scenery had appealed to more people than we had thought when we sought to get away from the crowd, and just a short walk from the entrance the gardens held scattered groups of students that had found solace in the various secluded benches and rose bushes. 

Well, not groups really. Couples. Without a shadow of a doubt in most cases.

I chanced a quick glance at Fleur and started to sweat a little, for my mind decided that it was a good time to replay Katie’s words of encouragement.

The comfortable feeling that always came when I was with Fleur unsettled in that moment into something less pleasant, as it tends to happen when sudden expectations surge from the actions of others.

A girl giggled as her ‘friend’ held her and nuzzled her neck, the sound and the proximity to my own friend making me blush spectacularly.

“Ahem, why don’t we go to the lake? There’s bound to be less people there,” I said, deliberately trying to not look at any of the other students.

“Oui!” She grabbed my arm and started hurriedly towards the lake, getting off of the illuminated path to more directly approach our destination.

She did look back a couple times, a peculiar expression on her face.

* * *

I would say that, next to the astronomy tower, the lake was one of my favourite places to go when I wanted to be alone for a while. It was far enough that most people didn’t care much for the walk that it took to get to it. At least as long as the sun didn’t shake off its lethargy in one of the rare warm days that we get during the term.

It was beautiful too. I tugged at the delicate, and surprisingly strong, hand that I held within mine and headed to the part of the lake that I liked the most, a small spot behind a large boulder close to the shore and shielded from the wind and the curious looks by some daring pine trees that pioneered outside of the limits of the forbidden forest.

The night was cold outside of the enchanted garden, the normally soft summer grass giving way to its winter brethren in the span of a few meters, the crunch under our feet releasing the acrid scent of cut grass, sharp in contrast to the sterile smell of winter. The lights of the path reflected in a blurry, fiery line on the surface of the lake, fencing the pale face of the moon.

The tinkling melody of Fleur’s laughter drew my attention away from the lake, and I was surprised that her gaze was on me and not on the enchanting view.

“What is it?”

She shook her head a small still playing on her lips, “You 'ave a good eye for relaxing spots."

"I do like my quiet," I guided her towards the boulder I normally used as a bench when I came here and we both sat, looking at the shimmering darkness of the lake, "As Hermione would say, this is where I come to sulk."

"I thought you didn't sulk," she said in a teasing tone.

"I don't," I raised my chin, "Hermione is of the opinion that I do, however."

"Well, she is a brilliant girl," she nodded sagely and I bumped her shoulder in playful protest.

With a gesture she produced a bunched up napkin and put it on the ground between us, opening it to reveal an assortment of small chocolates liberated from the table where we left Hermione.

She gestured in invitation and I took one while she rummaged between the folds of her bunched skirts for something, her lip bitten in concentration.

“Ah! Et voila!" she held up a bottle of wine with a triumphant air. A full-sized bottle of wine.

"Is that- Never mind, where did you even hid that?"

"I 'ave pockets," She said putting the bottle on the floor and procuring a couple of glasses from the same arcane stash.

"That’s a whole bottle, Fleur. And a pair of glasses."

"They are big pockets," she said simply, her eyes closing and her brows lifting in an imperious gesture. With a touch of her wand the cork popped out and stayed floating in the air a few inches above the bottle.

I took the proffered glass and sipped.

“You know, Fleur? I never would have thought that you were such a terrible dancer.”

“You sure know ‘ow to compliment a lady,” she said in a sardonic manner, one eyebrow rising to accentuate the sentiment as her deft fingers popped a bonbon in her mouth.

Of course, my mind caught up with my mouth at her subliminal reproach and I ruffled my hair in embarrassment, “Och, I didn’t mean it like that. I am terrible too. But you are always so… graceful, so effortless. It's strange to see you struggle.”

Her eyes crinkled and her lips pursed in a tight lipped smile owing to the chocolate she was eating. She put her hand daintily in front of her lips before swallowing.

“I suppose I never ‘ad a reason to get good at it. I’d go to at least a ball a year with my parents, but I mostly get mobbed by the younger attendants. Sometimes not so young ones either, so I did not see the appeal of it,” she shuddered in reminiscence and promptly grabbed another chocolate. It made me smile as I remembered Lupin’s remedy to dementor induced bad memories.

“That bad?”

“ ‘Ave you been enjoying the ball, my Lady?” she said, effecting a tone that pretended to be that of a young man, “ ‘Ow do you like to spend your days? With art, Surely? A lovely Dame such as yourself could do nothing else,” her noise of disgust unveiling a difference of opinion with her erstwhile admirer.

“To be fair, you are partial to loveliness yourself. Is that not why you got interested in enchantments in the first place?.”

“Oui, but the fact that ‘e would not even wait for me to answer before ‘e keep talking was affronting. And there were so many! I remember a particular one that pushed past the one that was talking at the moment to ask me to accompany ‘im to another room, for ‘e ‘ad “something ‘e wished to show me” while at the same time another offered me some jewelry that looked ‘just like my eyes’. The leer may not have been present on ‘is face, but it was so thick in ‘is voice that I may as well ‘ave seen it anyway.”

I snorted as a show of sympathy, “I'm sure you made a lot of them dance.” She looked at me disbelievingly, “I know I had to dance to your fiery tune,” I smirked remembering the night I had irrupted in her room.

She laughed then, understanding, “Non, that’s the worst of it. They were so polite! Sure they were ‘ogging and leering an had such eagerness that made the whole politeness irrelevant, but despite ‘ow disagreeable I found them I ‘ad no excuse to be anything but polite in return.”

Her disappointed pout was adorable in the extreme.

“Please, like you wouldn’t hit back with that silver tongue.”

Her smile was wide and proud, “Oh, oui. Not that it ‘elped a lot, but it was alleviating. I must ‘ave lost my touch, though.” I tilted my head in inquiry and she obliged, “Well, I did follow you ‘ere during a ball in the middle of the night for you to show me this ‘magnificent sight.’ What would poor young Monsieur Beaufort say? ‘E would be ‘eartbroken.”

I fixed my eyes on the lake, my heart vigorously expressing his excitement at the underlining allusion of her playful remark. Her sweet giggles not helping my disposition either.

“It was not that hard, actually. I just had to lure you with chocolates,” I glanced at her out the corner of my eye just in time to dodge one off the aforementioned sweets.

“Luckily for me, you are the only one that knows my weakness.”

Our merriment tittered on the chilly air as we looked at each other. I always tried not to stare at her too much, for I knew it was something that bothered her and beyond that I was afraid that if I looked at her too much I would not be able advert my eyes again. 

I cast the worry aside for the moment and delighted in the numinous exhibit of soft curls perched in a lovely arrangement on top of her head, gold and silver shining and dancing in the light of the moon. The same light giving an ethereal gleam to her fair skin turning it even fairer, making the few, tiny freckles that adorned the sharp and straight bridge of her nose look like golden droplets of dew on a marble statue. The fine bones of her high and prominent cheekbones holding up bejeweled eyes of a singular colour that seemed to swim and shift as they moved over me as mine did over her. 

Her lavish neck flowing into the curve or her graceful shoulders until it met the deep blue of her dress, the colour of it blending with the black and blues of the night and creating the illusion that Fleur was an apparition. The generous expanse of ivory dammed by the converging lines of embroidery turned rosy under my gaze. I lifted my eyes to hers, afraid of what I might find but nevertheless eager in my admiration. 

It surprised me to find her face so close as it was, for I couldn’t for the life of me remember moving towards her, nor did I saw her move. The ruddiness of her breast was now reflected on the mountain range of her nose and cheekbones, and without a doubt on my own face too. Her eyes hooded just as mine flicked down in shyness, overcome the intimacy of our mutual admiration.

My eyes, downcast towards the chocolate stained kerchief, proved braver than myself and grabbed hold of the vision of the lite hand that had her propped up, and because of that I did saw her move this time. Slowly the hand stepped until it was a hair's breadth away from mine to be followed by the rest of her, the advance of her legs obscured by the bunched fabric of both our garments. The warmth of her would not be hidden, though.

Now close enough to touch I lifted my eyes slowly catching a reassuringly timid smile. At the soft brush of her hand on mine I returned the smile as best I could, feeling it waver under the drumming of my heart.

I'll be the first to admit to being thickheaded in regards to some things, but even I could not miss the depth bared by her expression. I cannot say that I knew what it all meant, nor could I assume that what I saw now written on her face signified the same feeling that coursed through me. But then again, I was wary to put a name to that very feeling.

One thing I was absolutely sure about. I cared for her. I cared for Fleur Delacour with such ardor, with such intensity, that I did not know what to do with it. 

And looking at her, such tenderness in her gaze that It would have melted my legs from under me had I not been sitting already, I knew she cared for me too.

The night was quiet, as winter nights tended to be in the Scottish Highlands, with only the constant and soothing sound of the wind as it blew around us.

"Will… will you come with me? To-" she stammered, as if she'd thought better of what she was going to say.

"When you visit your sister?"

She shook her head vehemently, "l'oublier, I should not 'ave-"

"I will."

She seemed surprised at the promptness of my answer, and I could hardly blame her. Not when I noticed the words where mine well after they had left me.

"Non, it's dangerous and irresponsible, and-"

"Quite in line with my character then," I could see her hold back a smile.

"You would risk jail on my behalf, then."

"I know you'd break me out. I don't think you'd need my help though."

"Maybe not. But I would like to show you Le Palais, the places I enjoy an the ones I don't, Like you've shown me 'ogwarts."

"You just want to brag about your Ice statues and flower gardens, huh?

She looked at me with eyes wide and unguarded, "Beauxbatons is as much a part of me as 'ogwarts is a part of you, Chérie."

"Oh."

Such a simple statement. I did not answer, the depth of understand in such a situation needs not speech -luckily for me- but as my hand came to rest on top of hers I knew we understood each other. 

For the moment nothing else mattered.

* * *

I had been standing in front of this door for the past fifteen minutes trying to remember the password that Cedric had told me the night before, but try as I might most of what I could remember from the ball had to do with another champion altogether.

"Crisp air?" I jabbed the door lightly with my wand. The door remained immutable as a- as a- well, as a door. 

"Damn."

I had not planned to come here today, to be honest. I had wanted to see Fleur again, the fact that we parted only a few hours ago notwithstanding, but she was nowhere to be found. Our unexpected encounter with her headmistress on the door to the carriage may have something to do with that, now that I think about it.

We had spent hours at the lake, talking, drinking, stealing glances at each other and enjoying the peaceful silence that can only be achieved with those you trust implicitly. But even my smitten self needed sleep, specially after our energetic flailing at the ball and the exhaustion of introspection, and so I had accompanied her to the carriage, twisting and turning and laughing in the maze that surrounded it. 

In a typical burst of the luck that is so characteristic to myself, we got to the door at about the same time Madame Maxime appeared to materialize herself from around the huge carriage. Impressive for a woman of her size. She appeared to not be overly impressed by our faces flushed with laughter and cheery demeanour. Not that such attitude endured overly long under her scrutinizing gaze. A gaze that flicked to our clasped hands and turned accusing. 

“Je pensais avoir été clair. Tu ne devais pas venir avec lui au bal.”

In light of the general expression of the, likely twelve feet tall, woman and the tone in which she spoke, I felt inclined to drop Fleur’s hand and back away slowly. Fleur was having none of it though, and her gentle grip on my hand became suddenly unbelievably strong as she pulled me back to her side. 

“I thought what you said was that there was a rule against two champions going together.” Fleur said looking up and straight into the eyes of her headmistress. Maxime didn’t look happy to begin with, but Fleur’s use of English didn’t seem to help matters any, if the resulting scowl meant anything.

“Ce ne sont pas mes paroles, et je vous parlerai de cette…” She glance between us both, Fleur scowling herself now at her use of french, “...question, das matin sur mon bureau. Je vous suggère de vous retirer pour la nuit.”

With that last string of french she turned and gracefully ducked into the carriage, leaving an open mouthed Fleur to stare after her. 

“Le culot d'elle!” her dainty foot stamped the floor with all the strength she could manage, her teeth grinding in open affront.

“Well, it is quite big,” I said, a bit unsure, “not sure why we are speaking about your Headmistress… bottom, though. Care to enlighten me?”

Her eyes widened, her outrage melting into startlement at my comment and then into guffaws in the span of a second.

“I said gall, or nerve maybe. Not buttocks.”

“But I thought Culot meant-”

“That would be cul, ma coquin. I guess you could use in the same way, but is not really ‘ow it is used commonly.”

“French doesn’t make any sense.”

She shrugged, “It is a complicated language.”

“What was that about then,” I said trying to get the conversation back on track, “With Maxime, I mean.”

Her face flushed in anger quickly at the remainder, her eyes narrowing into sharp, blue triangles.

“She was not ‘appy to see us together.”

“That much I gathered,” I tried not to pay too much attention at the word ‘together.’

“She lied. She said It was not allowed for a champion to escort another champion, when she meant  _ I _ was not allowed to come with  _ you. _ And she intends to scold me! And order me to my room, as if I am a child!”

“Why would she do that?”

She frowned and stayed quiet for a while.

“I don't really know. She ‘as said before that our friendship is a distraction, and she ‘as made it clear she doesn’t think ‘ighly of you. Maybe she thinks that you are a cheater. I never thought she would act like this towards me,” her anger fluctuated again turning into a conflicted expression that I could not quite read, “I ‘ad always been able to trust ‘er.”

She shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the thoughts that were clearly running through it, and smiled weakly at me, “As much as I would love to stay elsewhere just to spite ‘er, I think I really need my room right now.”

“Aye, tell me about it. I’m knackered.”

“Naquerd?” the corners of her lips twitched at the sound of the unfamiliar word.

“Exhausted, I mean,” my own lips twitched at her attempt on the word.

She stared at me for some infinite seconds, her eyes roaming over my face. Her hand reached up, fingers running through my hair and It was all I could do not to close my eyes entirely at the feeling.

“Good night, then, mon cher coquin.”

With a last smile she walked on backwards the few steps to the door.

“Good night,” I whispered as she reach it, “My French Rose.”

Her tender smile didn't change so I could not tell if she had hear me before getting inside, leaving me alone with the rustling of the pine-

* * *

“Pines!” I exclaimed triumphantly as I woke from my remembrance, “It was something to do with pines, I’m sure of it. Pine Air.”

The door reacted at my latest try by giggling.

“Damn.”

I jumped as I heard steps around. A quick look at the marauders map showed the closest person was on the next floor up. The castle sure was echoey as all hells.

It took me a few tries before I hit the magic words and the door opened with a slight sound that felt like victory after having been trying so long. And not a minute too soon I managed it, my arm was getting tired of the awkward hold I had on the sodding golden egg. I would have said it was solid judging by the weight, had I not known otherwise.

My first impressions of the Prefect’s Baths was that it look kind of like a rounded version of a roman bath illustration I remembered seeing in a primary school book. 

A huge round pool occupied most of the space of the equally circular room, tall marble pillars rising all around its perimeter towards what looked like an opening to the skies on the roof, but was likely an enchantment akin to that of the Great Hall. The floor was tiled in white, the crevices between each tile filled with a golden substance that shimmered in tandem with the characteristic scintillating of the light of the torches as it reflected on the water.

It was a beautiful room, and no doubt. Was it worth it the effort of actually becoming a prefect? Doubtful. Fortunately I was not one to be following every rule, and as long as was reasonably careful and kept the Marauders Map on me I could use it at my pleasure.

I walked towards the pool as it stood directly in front of the door. Here, and at the place completely opposite, the pillars were farther apart from each other creating what was obviously intended to be the main places to enter it. Indeed, as I got closer I could see steps leading into it from both places.

After checking the Map again, just to be sure, I stripped to my briefs and walked into the pool, egg in hand. The water was clear and neither cool nor warm, and I would wager that said conditions could be changed to fit my fancy by means of the tangled array of faucets that surged from the depths on the centre of the pool with a comical resemblance to a -very much lost- Kraken.

Deciding not to lose time trying to decipher which coppery tentacle did what, I wadded in until I was elbows deep and dunked the egg unceremoniously enjoying the thunk it did as it got to the bottom. Reaching down I unclasped the latch on top and the egg opened in its usual sudden fashion, letting out a flash off light as it had done on every other occasion, the novelty was that it was absolutely silent. I still had flinched preventively, nevertheless. 

It was curious, the sound was not merely muffled by the water, it was nonexistent. One thing I did notice, in light of my surroundings. The light that came from the gods forsaken piece of glorified, oversized, jeweled paperweight looked exactly like the reflection off the water on the walls, and it was mere idiocy that I had not made the association with water before.

Remembering what Cedric had said I submerged my head and rapidly pulled out coughing after I swallowed a mouthful of water in my surprise. It was a song! I submerged myself again, this time forewarned, and listened. The beautiful chorus of harmonic voices was day and night to the usual screeching I had come to expect, however the message appeared to have been well underway since I had opened it so I rose for breath and in the subsequent dive closed the egg and opened it again.

_ Come seek us where our voices sound, _

_ We cannot sing above the ground, _

_ And while you're searching, ponder this: _

_ We've taken what you'll sorely miss, _

_ An hour long you'll have to look, _

_ And to recover what we took. _

_ But past an hour - the prospect's black _

_ Too late, it's gone, it won't come back. _

Cursing my lack of thought at not bringing a quill and parchment I spent a while alternatively diving to hear and floating around mouthing the words to myself until I was sure I remembered them well. Not that the meaning was all that abstract, but maybe a word or another would make a difference when trying to find a solution, for that was what this was. A problem. The song merely presented me with crude -if prettily worded- instructions on what the Second Task was going to be, giving me time to find a way to confront it.

As I said, the basic meaning was not all that obscure. Something of importance to me would be taken, and likely hidden or guarded by the authors of the song, the task will have a time limit after which recovery of the stolen thing would be impossible, and the whole objective of The Task would be to recover the stolen property.

It was no feat of deduction to infer that the symphonic burglars would live underwater, where heir voices actually sounded like voices and not like banshees realizing they left the oven on. As to the identity of said burglars, well, the pretty blonde waving from atop her rock and giggling mutely at me from the perch of her frame that overlooked the pool was a good enough clue.

“I don’t suppose you would be so kind as to tell me what your people like in the way of stolen trinkets, would you?” I said to the artfully painted mermaid, her only answer was to blush prettily at the attention, her strong silvery tail raising in lieu of a fan to cover her face like a Victorian courtesan, golden eyes peering over the rim of it.

I sighed. Nothing in particular came to mind, as I had few possessions, and even fewer that I valued overmuch. There was my wand, my father's cloak, the Marauder’s map… you could have counted my Firebolt too, but the tournament had already taken that from me. The wand was not going to be taken, I thought, after all, I could hardly be expected to compete in a magical competition with no magic at my disposal. Few people knew about the map and the cloak, and I almost always carried them with me in any case, so short of taking them from me by force I didn’t see that they could be used for ransom.

The thought of ransom brought Hedwig to mind, after all I  _ did _ own her. Not that I was normally inclined to think of her as a mere object, and proud as the owl was, she would take issue at such and idea. She was my friend, as much as Ron and Hermione were.

I straightened then with such a suddenness from where I had been floating lazily that I inhaled a good bit of water.

No. No they wouldn’t, I thought. The tournament organizers may be crazy enough to bring dragons casually to a ‘test of mettle,’ but all the champions were willing participants. Well, I reflected ruefully, if not willing certainly contractually obligated to participate. Outright snatching people just because they knew one of the champions was bound to get them in trouble, if nothing else.

Nevermind that, for now. Be it my favourite quill or the Queen of England, it would not change the fact that I would have to recover something held by mermaids, or by some other underwater creature intelligent enough to compose a poem, and that I would have one hour to do so. 

Where from, I thought was a better question. Why from underwater, of course, which would necessarily mean the Task would take me to the Black Lake unless it took place outside of Hogwarts, in which case it would not matter if I knew the place or not as they would likely transport us to there.

That left the issue I had been unwittingly postponing to think about. How in all the nine hells was I supposed to be able to dive into the lake for at least an hour? And even if I knew the answer to that, I could barely swim well enough to handle this pool, so there was that too.

I huffed in exasperation and let myself float on my back, at least I had time. 


	15. Prometheus Is Not The Only One With Unfortunate Ideas

_ **Chapter 15** _

_ **Prometheus Is Not The Only One With Unfortunate Ideas** _

* * *

After my very productive bath I had gone to the Great Hall in hopes of finding Fleur there, not having had any luck in such endeavour on any of our usual spots early in the day. She was there, and catching her eye I smiled genuinely if a bit unsurely. I reckon it looked similar to the shy smile I got in return. Her gaze flicked towards the head table, where Madame Maxime was looking at me with cold displeasure. Fleur's shoulders rose a minute amount in a clear gesture of apology, and mine did so in answer. What can you do? I tried to convey.

Almost as easy as finding Fleur's form among the teeming masses that populated the hall, ravenous for supper and gossip, was finding my two oldest friends. After all, looking like a rowan tree in autumn and a flagpole hoisting the colors of wales respectively, Hermione and Ron were not very inconspicuous in the best of days. Flanked by the rumbustious twins they were impossible to miss.

One of the set saw me standing near the doors and yodeled, the other lifted his head and repeat the sound with uncanny accuracy making me think of a pair of happily neighing horses. The rest of the table responded with some kind of exclamation. Receiving their champion, no doubt. It was a bitter thought, but catching Katie's wide smile as she looked back from her seat across them lessened the sense of aggravation. A few on this table genuinely cared, after all, and those are the ones that truly matter.

With a jolt I realized that this were the words that Fleur had said to me when we were first reaching out to each other. Most won't care, or actively try and do harm. But a few will care for no other reason than yourself. That made me smile in earnest

So reassured, and considerably happy after having solved the egg, I joined my friends, Ron and Hermione making a space between them so that I may sit.

"The prodigal son!" screamed Fred. That is, I think it was Fred.

"He returns!" came the echoing answer.

"He grace us with his presence."

Hermione seemed amused at this. She always did seemed to enjoy the twins byplay, much as she would never admit to such a thing out loud, but her face oft soften with exposure to their overly boisterous character.

"Fred, George," I said, nodding at each one before turning randomly to someone else, "Gentlemen."

"You wound me and my kinsman, Sir, with your pernicious omission. I demand satisfaction!"

I lifted a brow imperiously, "You've been reading period novels, haven't you?"

"You forget, Harry," said Hermione, interrupting what was most likely another strangely worded, and curiously accented, riposte from the other twin, "They are purebloods. They are, effectively, period revivalists."

"Oh! The wounds! The betrayal! Our blood turned against us!"

As it tended to happen, after the initial burst of silliness, the table subsided in their merrymaking and continued with whatever they had been doing, which was mostly the very unexciting enterprise of eating. After having spent a good while on the pool trying to assess how much I could trust my aptitude at swimming -Which was, unsurprisingly, not at all- I felt highly inclined to partake in such an endeavour. I was too late for proper food though.

O good, treacle tart.

My ambush for the piece of confectionery was interrupted quite suddenly by Hermione's insistent tapping on my elbow.

"Now just wait a minute, I am famished."

Ron snorted at that, recognizing Hermione's characteristic impatience just as well as I, and the futility of trying to divert her.

"See, even Ron noticed."

This in turn caused a most unlady-like, and uncannily similar, snort from her.

"At least you can tell me what is wrong with Fleur while you eat? "

"What is wrong with-"

I raised my eyes from the delectable portion of ambrosia towards Ravenclaw's table and saw the clear expression of disgust on Fleur's normally controlled face, a face directed at our group.

"Oh come on!"

"What?" said Ron.

Katie, clearly not giving up on her overly complicated attempts of suicide, was looking at me with an exorbitantly sweet expression, and smiling like the cat that got the cream. She batted her lashes exaggeratedly when she saw me look.

"Harry!" came the indignant whisper from Hermione, "What happened after the ball."

"Now, don't get your knickers in a twist, Hermy," Her lips, already tight with suspicion, got to McGonagall's level and almost disappeared directly, in mutiny at the nickname, "Katie is just trying to help. Or at least she thinks so."

Her suspicious expression didn't abate. Ron looked confused.

I didn't blame him.

"She is, how did she put it, 'acting as my wingman' To both our detriment."

Her face turned to understanding and surprise in a jiffy. She turned her, now incredulous, face to Katie, who winked salaciously to her.

"You two are almost more invested in this… situation, than I am myself."

"Not at all, Harry dear, we only are less clueless about it."

"What are you two talking about?" said Ron, in a confused tone that I sympathized with completely.

"Oh, nothing much. Only our very own Harry here is… flying around a flower, like a bee that doesn't quite know what to do."

I frowned at her teasing, not finding it nearly as funny as she did, and not liking the way the twins had perked at the comment, "Like you know any better," I mumbled and took an unceremonious bite of my treacle tart.

A faint flush rose to her cheeks and she worried her lip, "I- I didn't mean it quite like that. Sorry."

"Hrrpmhh. Well cut it, for now," I glanced suspiciously at the twins gleeful expressions, "I have more important news. I have the clue for the next task."

With as much secrecy as could be had in the Great Hall -meaning every one would know some distorted variation of it within the hour- I quickly told them what I had deduced from my findings.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and then at me.

"Well, it's just as well you have time, mate. I don't have a clue what you could do about it."

"None at all? Your house has a lake in the backyard, for heaven's sake. Certainly you'd have seen your mother using some spell or… something."

"It's barely a pond, Harry. The garden gnomes can't seem to manage to drown in it. Not even when they raid the pantry and get plastered on butterbeer."

"What about you, Hermione?"

She shrugged, apologetic.

"Gods damn it, we live on an island! There must be something"

"Well," said Fred, who was close enough to have heard the whole thing, "There is the Bubble-Head charm."

Angelina snorted from his right, "Until there isn't," her nose wrinkled in disgust, "God knows I've had it fail in your 'workshop' often enough."

"Excuse me, can we go back to Bubble-Head?"

"It's a standard Fifth year charm," replied Hermione, "It makes a- well, a bubble around the caster's face that produces breathing air on the inside and acts as a barrier from the outside."

"Indeed," said George, "but it does take a fair amount of focus to maintain in proper working order, and it can be quite... pernickety."

"There is also the matter of it working underwater," added Katie, massaging her sore cheeks after holding her coquettish smile for so long, "and I don't think it allows you to cast anything else while it's active."

"Can't be worse than the one thing I had in mind, at least it wouldn't shred my mind like so much minced meat with the effort," I said. "Mind you," I added quickly at the assemblage of faces on varying states of startlement, "I haven't really made any kind of actual research yet."

"Thank god for small mercies," muttered Hermione, "Don't worry though, we'll start that research presently."

Ron's instinctual groan must have matched my apprehensive expression, for our small group burst into renewed laughter at it. Aye, I was not against learning in general, quite the opposite, particularly if it would help me guard my skin. Hermione though, she can be a bit… zealous, about the matter.

Nevertheless, her help, as her company, would be invaluable.

* * *

Wizards are cats. And no, I don't mean in a McGonagall kind of way. I mean it in their general dislike of water. And maybe in their attitudes towards other species.

Hmmm, now there is a thought.

After hours of scrounging around the oaken filled wilderness of the well reputed Hogwarts library, that contained among the transmogrified remains of thousands of trees the collective knowledge of generations of mages of all denominations dating back as far as the eleventh century ,if Hogwarts a History was to be believed, I had not found a single spell, potion or other type of magical contraption or effect that would allow a human to survive underwater for any amount of time in any manner.

Well, that is not quite true. Human transfiguration came up readily enough, but the possible complications of it, particularly for someone with my practical experience on transfiguration, would be pretty grave. I was not keen on becoming a permanent patient of the experimental reversal of magical effects ward at St. Mungos, as Ron put it. The idea was nevertheless archived in case we did not find anything else.

We, of course, found a good many spells useful for, or directly created for seafarers, as one would imagine it would in light of the general story of sailing in the whole region. From spells to control winds or protect against storms, repel sea creatures, shield against lightning, optimize the glide of a ship, reinforce and repair vessels and so on, and so on.

There were references to such type of spells as old as dating to the Dane's invasions and its formidable sailors. People in general were nevertheless more focused in staying _above _water. There was a particular book written in some incomprehensible form of old English that had, if the comical illustration accompanying it was to be believed, allowed the affected to… bounce, if not quite walk, above water. Intended for helping men that went overboard, no doubt.

There was too, of course, the heavily taxing Water Animation spell on Dumbledore's diary. I was of a mind that it would not be quite a good idea to try that after the experience with the Binding on the dragon, particularly when the mass of water I would have to move was quite a bit more than the mere glass I estimated was within my current abilities. Still, It was dog eared too, just in case.

At least I was reasonably sure that the thieves were mermaids, for I had not find any other creature that was intelligent, submarine and had such pretty voices -Underwater, that is- after having extensively checked on the native and imported creatures on the British Isle. There were several types of Mermaids, too -Mediterranids, Nords, Germanics...- but the differences between them were mostly in appearance and culture. A bit like us humans, now that I thought about it. And the most important characteristic they all share is that they don't have spells.

Against a capable spellcaster, properly aware of their presence and prepared, there is not much they could do with crude spears and swords. Not that they need to, their whole habitat being adverse to any spellcaster.

Ron and Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor's Tower sometime ago, and I had stayed back with the excuse of heading back to L'ermitage after picking up my things, but I could not stop turning the matter of the Task around in my mind and so it was almost an hour later that I found myself walking back to my haven, the faint light of a winter moon shining in silvery blades that cut the stone from the castle creating the open arches of the windows; or at least it was the way it looked, as the light entered through them, mostly clear, but here and there tinted with the colours of a stained glass.

It was then, absorbed in thought and blinded by the beauty of Hogwarts that I almost died.

Or at least that was the strong opinion expressed by my body, as it jumped in a half frozen pose towards the horrifying sound that blasted from behind, eyes wide as could be, and I'm sure that if I had hair on my back it would have risen like the shackles of a frightened dog.

The reaction was visceral and automatic and even after my eyes, suddenly sharp even in the dimness, took in the most common sight of one of the old animated suits of armour that littered the castle, it took a few precious seconds until I regained control and it became my body again.

The first thing I did with my newly regained captainship over said body was to curse in a manner that would make a sailor take note. Quite appropriate, I'd say.

I turned, sudden as can be, and walked briskly towards L'Ermitage,the cause of the panic episode went on with his merry and wild cackles that were supposed to be carols, as it had been enchanted to do.

I stopped with my foot half way up. Now _that_ was a thought.

If I could not find a way to go underwater for such an amount of time, maybe the best would be if I did not have to go myself. With that in mind I hastened my pase, intent on going through Dumbledore's diary as I remembered something written there about the matter of animation an enchanting.

* * *

After getting to L'Ermitage and unearthing the diary from where I had it hidden I remembered why it was that I had only given a cursory glance at that particular section. It was bloody complicated.

Parts of it didn't make any sense at all, and others appeared to be written in the very old letters some of the oldest books on the library had been written in. The notes were actually about the very same suits of armour that had given me the idea in the first place, as apparently a young Dumbledore found it a good starting point in his career in animation and transfiguration to study the works that the founders had done on the suits of armour and statues around the castle. What an interesting fella.

In any case, there is nothing I could actually do with that. Its just… far too much. And that, my friends, is why I found myself knocking on this particular door, at too early an hour to be socially acceptable. At least when classes were out.

Well, the door did swung open.

"Mr. Potter? Has something happened?"

"No, Professor McGonagall. Nothing happened. I just have a few questions," I ruffled my hair nervously, "I know it's very early, and I'm that sorry, but I was just too… restless."

"Bah," she said, with characteristic expressiveness,"I don't remember giving you an schedule when I offered my help. Come on in then, Mr. Potter."

After the required pleasantries were said, and I had had my fill of newt shaped biscuits and a very strong black tea, we got to business.

"I believe there was something on your mind? Mr. Potter."

"Oh, yes. You see, I was curious about the arts of animation."

MacGonagall's eyebrows rose speculatively, "Indeed. And may I inquire as to what brought on this particular bout of curiosity?"

"Well, it seemed safer than human transfiguration."

At this her brows rose in earnest, and after a moment of searching my face she took her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose, letting a suffering sigh escape her.

"It is, at that. But that is about as much as I would say in its favour. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Harry, but animation is a very nuanced area of magic. You plainly are powerful, the First Task showed as much, but you can't dragoon your way through a proper piece of animation, you need to know how to weave all the enchantments in a way that they'll hold and not act in conflict with each other, how to anchor them so that they won't fade by the actions of other spells, and that is counting on you already knowing the individual spells that would compose the full animation work well enough to be able to use them."

"Oh, I… I see. I had gather it was a complicated affair, at least from something I read about the castle's armours. But I had thought that maybe something simpler, it would not need to do anything too complex."

"Aye, maybe you think so. But how complex is too complex? You could maybe make a statue walk, which would be easier than the suits since there is at least a continuous mass, but then, how would it know when to stop walking? or when to turn to one side or another? How would it know to avoid danger? Or seek it, for that matter. Even the simplest of animations require hundreds of instructions, and the correct order for said instructions," she smiled as my face dropped further, "I am maybe sharp enough to know why you would want to animate something, Harry, and you not saying, but even if time were not a constraint, the - ahm- _task _for which you require an animated lackey is far too elaborate for a simple minded construct."

"But I've seen you animate a whole tea set to dance with each other with nay more than a spell, professor, and dancing is not quite so uncomplicated a task. I would know," I said with a rueful smile. She snorted at the understated comment on my dancing skills.

"I'd say so too, Mr. Potter," her brow furrowed in thought, "and you would be right, too, about that particular piece of showmanship. There is indeed a piece of magic that would allow you control over an inanimate object so that you could make the move in any way that you could think, as long as your body is familiar enough with such actions, for your own body would form the blueprints for the movements."

"So _I _could never make a teapot dance, huh?"

"I'd say it's highly unlikely you could, no," Her lips twitched the smallest amount in amusement, "There is other things you could do, though. The spell is not at all easy, and requires an amount of focus that not everyone is capable of mustering, though after the binding I've seen you do I think you would be quite capable. Still, I do not believe it would be useful for what you want, but it maybe will guide you to a better solution. Here," she said as she took a quill and scribbled something on a piece of parchment before handing it to me.

I looked at the two small squares of paper on my hand and turned to her, a bit nonplussed.

"The book that details the spell is in the restricted section of the library, Mr. Potter," she pointed to the hand where I had the Letter of Permission, "and I wrote the name of the book and author, as well of the spell, on there," She pointed to the other, "I do have to warn you, it is not strictly an animation spell, nor a transfiguration one, so you would have to… change your perspective some. And the rest of the book in general is unsavory at best, and not at all something I'd recommend to any student where it not for the circumstances."

"I thank you, professor," I said, my spirits lifted a bit that the idea was not totally useless.

"There is no need, is the imperative of a Teacher to teach, is it not?"

I laughed at that, "Yeah, Professor Dumbledore said something to that effect, too."

"Indeed he would," she smiled, "now go on ahead, Mr. Potter. As you said, it's quite early, and I think I could do with some breakfast. Only-" she said as I was retreating to the door, "Be careful. Of what you do, yes, but even more so, of what you decide to learn."

I nodded, not knowing what to make of the cryptic comment and turned towards the door.

Madam Pince clearly didn't trust me, if her suspicious face was to be believed. But after examining the note from McGonagall as minutely as she could for the better part of ten minutes she had to relent and let me into the Restricted Section of the library. Nevertheless, she guided me to the book and settled me in an empty table, the old tome set carefully so that the edge of it was aligned fastidiously to the border of the table.

I thought it more likely that the show of hospitality was more for the book's sake than my own.

The book was old, as most of the books in this part of the library were, but it was preserved with enough care that were it not for the fact that it was written in old runes of some kind -and handwritten at that- you could be forgiven for thinking it was as new as my regular school books. At least it didn't scream when I open it.

I could not do much with it presently since I couldn't read runes, but leafing through it I could tell by the illustrations that the entire volume was dedicated to some kind of study on the movement and animation of objects. The book was not terribly long, at least when compared to a modern book of transfiguration, but had the same feel of orderly thought. It reminded me some of Dumbledore's diary, if a bit more refined. Edited, maybe.

"Harry," came a whisper to my left.

In response I drew back the chair closer to the sound all the while looking around for any nosey Parker.

"Is that the book?" said the invisible form of Hermione.

"Aye, I can't read it though."

"Hmmm, let me see," the book slid on its own -or so it looked- to her side of the table, and a couple of pages turned, "These are Anglo-Saxon runes. Old English, likely," A couple more pages turned, "Do you know the name of the spell?"

I put the piece of paper on the table with the words 'Beufan se Fraegen of gast Gedǣlest wiþ þing' and 'Sceadu Geþoht' which being written in the letters I was accustomed to, had been quite hard to find in the book. After a few minutes in which I got lost in thoughts of silver and gold and blue while the pages rustled, she said, "here!"

"Yeah… Still can't read it. What does it say?"

She shifted inside the clock and her face appeared floating in front of the book, "Something like Shadowed Thoughts, or Glass- no, Mirror, Mirror of… not thoughts, exactly but, the things that go through your mind that made you… be. The word shadow is used in the sense of something that moves with you, something deeper than mere thoughts or ideas."

"That is something like McGonagall said. You can make an object do something that you could do yourself, but it's not quite animation as is commonly known."

"Hmmm… quite right. This here says that you 'wet' the object with your... ghost? I guess it means something like essence and so the object is like a part of you. I don't think you need to move literally, here they use this 'Geþoht' word again, I think the moves happen in your mind and the enchanted object makes them instead of your body."

"Like when you move an arm or something. It happens in your mind but your body reacts to it, only it would not be your body but the object."

"Like your mind is the body and the object the shadow. That makes more sense. Mind you I could be slightly off, I understand the words well enough, but old English is very archaic, and the words may mean something very different than the literal translation," Her brow pinched as she looked at the startlingly white pages as if she could blackjack the arcane symbols into revealing their in a pain and forthwith manner.

"What about the spell instructions? Are they clear enough?"

"What? Oh! yes, yes they are," she smiled wryly, "that part is more familiar, there are only a certain amount of ways you could describe a wand movement, or any other component of a spell. It's a bit strange sounding still, but we do Spell Instructions Translations every Friday on Ancient Runes. And the incantation is almost always plainly written," her finger slid over the page, searching, "Here, see? 'Ic flyht Ic abysgian.'"

The words were indeed written in a single line, almost separate from the rest of the text.

"Could you maybe write down the instructions in English?" I looked at her, "Normal English, I mean," I said as her face took on the scholastic quality it does when she is about to correct someone. She flushed slightly but nevertheless nodded her assent, and so I stood to scout around and make sure we would not be interrupted.

The library was almost empty, and the restricted Section even more so, and from what I remembered of the exhibition McGonagall had done with her tea set, the spell was not likely to make a lot in the way of sound. Good enough, I thought, and made my way back to Hermione.

She was focused on her writing, and I saw with alarm that she was using my writing implements. Normally I would not mind; I wouldn't have noticed, even. But the fact that I had Dumbledore's Diary neatly tucked in my rucksack made me feel uneasy about someone searching through it.

I did not like to be carrying it about like so much a magazine, but the thought had struck me that, at the moment, it was my most valuable possession, and with the threat of the piratical mermaids I felt even less inclined to leave it out of my sight.

Well, to be fair to the mermaids, it would likely not be them directly the ones to do the thieving.

"Everything is clear," I said, and Hermione emerged completely from beneath the cloak, folding it carefully.

Hermione's notes were short and to the point, as they tended to be, and the spell in itself did seem straightforward enough.

"A short spiral jab towards the object to the point of touching it as you say the incantation."

"Which is?"

"Ic flyht Ic abysgian," she tapped her finger on the black line on her notes.

I read it several times, mouthing the coarse and unfamiliar words as best I could and making the small corrections Hermione suggested. Feeling sufficiently ready I squared off valiantly to the inkwell and produced my wand in a motion reminiscent of the drawing of a sword before making a sort of spiraling stab at it, my lips focused in the halting uttering of the unfamiliar incantation.

I felt the warmth of magic rushing on my body, within and without, seeking the focus of the wand in the same way a stream flows down a hillside, and as the Arcane energies flowed away from me, so did something else, something nameless.

My vision blurred at the edges and I felt for the slightest of moments that I was going to faint, but then the blood seemed to hasten back up to my head and my focus was restored. At least for the most part. I felt… distant. Detached. I was faintly aware of my body but it did not feel all that 'mine,' to be honest. It felt about as mine as the small glass ink container that sat in front of me, the world blurry around it.

"Move," I thought. The inkwell had to move, that was the only important thing. Nothing else mattered.

The ink pot , though, had different priorities in life, and remained stubbornly unmoving. I put all the focus I had on accomplishing the herculean feat of making the small piece of glass walk a few steps, to the point that I could feel sweat start to gather on my brow, but no matter how I worded, or how much authority I gave the notion, it simply did not work.

Feeling drained, disappointed and not a small bit angry I made to step towards the table and flung the offending container across the room in retaliation for its disobedience, an lo and behold the inkwell stepped forward, one of it's corners stretching out in a mocking imitation of a leg. I gaped at it and the lid of the inkwell opened, burlesque.

I heard Hermione gasp excitedly somewhere in the fog around the Ink pot and the illusion of floating and oneness faded. My hand fell to my side like so much lead, and my legs -Obviously thinking that they deserved the same rights as the upper extremities- gave way at the knees. Fortunately, my dictatorial control over my body had returned, and I could manage to fortify them enough to hold my weight.

"You did it!" my friend clapped in the quiet manner that was particular to any enterprise conducted in the confines of a library, "How was it?"

"That was… queer. I am a bit dizzy, to be honest."

"Oh, really? How so."

"You know when you get up to fast from a low chair, and everything turns for a second?" She nodded, "Kind of like that. Though while the spell was active it felt more like…" I thought for a moment, trying to recall a feeling sufficiently close to the peculiar feeling of detachment, "like, in the ball I had a few glasses of wine, and with all the dancing and excitement I felt like I was floating slightly outside my body. Or like when you have been trying not to fall asleep for a long while, and you are more asleep than awake. I remembered that I was trying to make the sodding thing move, but try as I might I could not. Not until I made to move towards it. Then it moved."

"Of course! That's what they meant in the book. The object moved when you tried to move, and your own body didn't, since your mind was elsewhere. Here, let me try."

She made a cute little lounge towards the inkwell as she casted the spell, and I could see in her eyes that the magic had taken hold, for they grew wide as saucers and shifted as if trying to focus on something in the middle distance, and then she pitched headfirst towards the table.

I made a sound of alarm and jumped towards her, catching her just before she broke her nose on the table. I held her until I could see her cross eyed gaze finally focus enough that she could distinguish my face, inches from her's.

"You squeaked," her lips twitched in amusement.

"I most certainly did not,"

"Did too, like a mouse," she had the gall to giggle, quite literally, to my face.

"You are bloody welcome, by the way," I flicked her nose in a pointed gesture and she pushed away to let herself fall unceremoniously on the bench, "What happened though?"

"Don't rightly know. I felt the spell hold all right, and then my vision started tunneling and next thing I know you are holding me up," she shrugged, "I fainted, I suppose."

"Ah, yes. I felt everything dimming too, it is fairly similar to fainting," She looked at me questioningly, "Look, Malfoy is a wee bastard, but he was not entirely wrong. I know how it feels to faint."

Her lips twitched again, "How'd you manage, then?"

"I pushed against it," I said and shrugged, "It wouldn't be the first time either. If you can't fight a faint after being hit by a bludger you are fairly screwed. The dementors where… different," I shuddered in remembered dread, "there was no fighting through that, not without magic, and even with it…" I shook my head.

Hermione nodded, a bit dubious, and furrowed her brows in thought, then nodded again and stood up with the obvious intent of having another go. My first instinct was to stop her, but then I remembered the patronus lessons with Lup- with Remus, and I figured that another try would not hurt any more than that.

I did stand ready in case further aid was required.

She made the same short lounge as before and, again, tipped forward after the spell held. Before I reached her, though, she managed to find her footing, at the same time the inkwell made an awkward step to the front.

Hermione's expression was about as vacant as Ron's in divination class. You could see that something was happening there, inside, but such happenings had nothing to do whatsoever to anything around him. Or her, in this case.

Something was definitely happening on the table, though, as the Inkwell started slowly to bounce from one side to the other until, after a while, it looked clear enough that it was dancing a waltz.

From there the testing went smoothly, the trick being that the spell almost made it so that the enchanted object reacted to your movements, instead of your own body.

There was just one little problem. The moment the object was out of sight, the spell collapsed.

"Well, that was a waste," I frowned upon the capsized inkwell, it's vital liquid spilling on the, fortunately dark, wood.

Hermione, though, took the uselessness of the spell more philosophically and merely shrugged, paging through the book.

"I don't know that it is," she said, "it's a start, at the very least."

"A start?"

"Yes," she looked at me like I was being particularly obtuse, "This whole book," she lifted the aforementioned in emphasis, "It's quite particular in its content. As far as I can tell all the spells are of a similar nature. Maybe there is something that in it that would help. Or in another book by the same author, if there is such a thing I mean."

"Hmmm," I said in my usual display of eloquence, "Maybe that was MacGonagall's idea. When she directed me to this particular book I mean, as she cannot be seen aiding me directly. Its lucky you can read it though."

She shook her head, " I don't think its luck. Professor MacGonagall knows perfectly well that I have a fair level in Ancient Runes. She helped me get in that class last year, after all. And as head of house she is likely well acquainted with our performance in all classes. As for being secretive, she does not really need to. You are not Hogwarts Champion, are you?" Her smile was as sly as any I've seen in Fred or George's face. Man, she really has picked a lot of Weasley mannerisms.

As for her comment, I just shrugged, "Be that as it may, I don't think it would be well viewed."

"In any case," she changed topic, covering herself with my cloak in one practiced move, "I'm taking the book."

"Of course you are, you little robber," a faint giggle and receding footsteps were the only response I got.

* * *

As it was, Hermione did manage to concoct something out of the book.

And so it was that we stood in the empty Gryffindor common room, Ron and I, some two weeks later, looking over her notes, with a faint sense of disgust.

"I'm not too sure about this, Hermione," I said.

"Why in heaven not? It _is _something similar enough to what _you _wanted."

"Aye, well," said Ron, "It's a bit… I don't want to say dark, but a bit… unnerving, maybe."

"Humpf."

"Well, you do have to admit it does seem a bit… Frankentainish," I said.

"Alright, maybe this Hefner fellow was not the most agreeable wizard out there. And maybe most of his work is more that a bit disturbing, but right now this is your best -and only- choice. We have enough time until the day of the task that we could maybe be able to build it and do all the spellwork and have enough time to test it."

I traced the crude drawings on the parchment with a finger, Hermione would never be a great artist, but she certainly had a fair enough hand to be able to instill a sense of wrongness to the construct borne of her mind and that of an eleventh century wizard.

"Well, it would certainly be convenient," said Ron, thoughtfully, "It would remove several problems that you would have, if you tried it any other way. The weight of the water, for example, the lack of air and light, defending from what creatures you may find, and so on," He shuddered suddenly, "Still, all that blood. It seems like something the Malfoys would do."

I sighed, my eyes still on the drawings. The vaguely human shaped, lumpy statue with deep grooves carved into it stared back at me from the paper with a featureless gaze, the head bearing nay of the odd rune markings that littered the rest of it. I could almost imagine the dark red liquid flowing in those grooves, a mockery of life.

"At least I would shed all the that blood safely away and before the Task," I looked up and saw them both eyeing me, waiting for me to make a decision.

"Alright, then," I sighed, "Let's build ourselves a Golem."

* * *

It was, very surprisingly, a sunny day. She had thought that such a thing as a clear day, with blue skies and sunlight streaming through her window was not something she would be able to experience in quite a while yet.

I was a vachement cold day, she thought as she let the comb slide soothingly through her hair, but with the heating charms of the Carriage she could almost make herself believe that she was home, in France. This thought, however, became disheartening as quickly as it had been comforting just scant seconds before.

She was not and idiote, quite the opposite in fact. She was well aware of the reason for such a feeling. Home was quite a ways away from Scotland, and from this dreary, drafty castle. And even more so from the people that inhabit it. She let out a breath and put the comb on the vanity; no, thinking of it in general terms did not help one bit.

She had so far managed not to dwell on it too much, but after Madame Maxime's unwanted prying into her affairs, and the fact that for some reason or another she had not been able to see Harry for the last few days she had been forced to think on the situation.

She had feelings for the young man, that much was obvious even to herself, something that she found slightly surprising, for everyone always said that you are the last to notice when you lo- when you cared for someone. She threw a betrayed look at her plain covered book, thinking that romance novels where most likely written by someone with a marked lack of experience in the matter, for nothing had felt -or happened, for that matter- as nothing she had read, be it in French, or in the single English novel she had picked up in an attempt to practice her English before coming to Bretagne.

She had to admit though, that the adventures of fair Rosalind and the dreaded pirate Sawney had wormed their way into her heart. And she had learned more than a few useful new words, she smiled as she was reminded of Harry's reaction to her expanded vocabulary.

She had been… indecisive as to how to act on such a novel feeling. If, even, to act on it. Loath as she was to admit it, she was feeling apprehensive at the prospect, for there were certain considerations in the matter. He was younger for one, and also competing against her. He is, of course, quite famous in his own right, something that was sure to get the tongues wagging were something to happen between them; and for all that she put on her aloof and nonchalant face to the busybodies, it was sometimes an extraneous task, and she was sure someone would become well acquainted the adage about a cat with a straw tail. He, on the other hand, appear to actually not pay attention to such rumours, but even he must have a limits and she did not like the idea that she be the reason he found them.

There was also the problem that Maxi did not like him, but Fleur was not so worried about that. It was true that Madame was generally an excellent judge of character and had her safety in mind, but she did not know him like she. She still fumed -almost literally- when she remembered her suspicious, and unfounded accusations on his character. In all fairness, it _had_ been him the one to break into the carriage, and more importantly, her room. But had maxime been there she would not doubt his integrity. Fleur 's, maybe. But certainly not Harry's.

Her cheeks warmed as she remembered that morning. They had not been that close again, and she was surprised to realize that she actually missed the experience.

Fleur clacked her tongue, she certainly would not mind that closeness. The problem was that she had no idea how to initiate such a change in their relationship. She was fairly sure that Harry would not mind terribly if that were to happen. For all that he is very discrete she could feel his gaze over her sometimes when he is sure she is not looking, and those eyes of his, expressive to a fault. No, there is no doubt what goes on through his mind sometimes, for all that he doesn't act on it.

Gods, it would be easier if he were to do so, but she was sure that he was as clueless as she was herself as to how to continue, or even more so.

The blonde trollop that went with him to the ball had no such reservations, though, she thought resentfully. Her blood burned in her veins at the memory of the saccharine smile the tramp fixed her with, mocking her. And clearly Harry liked her, too, well enough. She felt herself growl and the combing became that bit more aggressive. The less she thought about that- that- _Katherine_, the better.

She had thought to ask her parents for advice, but not having talked to them about anything similar to this particular conundrum before, she had been reluctant, blushing in mortification every time she took the quill to breach the subject.

She had made a few hints, she thought as she looked at the few letters she had piled on the vanity, but her maman had thought she was being bothered by some over clingy acquaintance, if her responses were anything to go by. Not that she could blame her, such occurrence being much more common, and her intimations so vague. Maybe she would be able to ask more directly when she saw them.

The thought made her feel giddy. The last letter she had gotten -they took so long to get from here to France and back, she lamented- had said they would be able to come see her for the Second Task. That made her glare at the golden egg atop her small settee, this having become her usual reaction to remembering said task.

Time was running out and she was no closer now than she had been before to figuring out the maudit clue. She had examined the magic weaved into the thing and apart from the obvious charms meant to make the cheap metal it's Gold like appearance and resistance, there was nothing more than a simple recording in it. It lasted about 40 seconds, by her count before repeating itself indefinitely. The only clue this gave her was that something had actually made that noise and someone had recorded it. And that whatever it was that made that noise would likely be in the Task. She cursed again, not having forgotten the dragon yet.

A pecking in the small high window made her turn her head sharply, pulling her hair accidentally with the comb. She had been half expecting to see Harry floating outside the window with that rueful smile of his. Her disappointment was short lived, though, for she recognized Governor Baguette - little Gaby's ridiculously named owl- and scrambled to help the big owl squeeze through the tiny opening.

The poor animal was clearly tired from the long voyage for it took flight to the darkest corner of the room as soon as she took the letter and, covering his head with a wing, promptly fell asleep. It had not even bothered to take a bite from the bowl of treats left for such a purpose.

Fleur herself was thrumming, the letter clutched possessively in her hands, as she delighted in the overly floritured way Gabby always wrote her name on the address.

She sat on the settee and carefully broke the wax seal.

** _Chère Soeur,_ **

** _Je suis aussi bien que possible..._ **

It took her no more than five minutes to finish reading the letter. She sighed and set to read it again, feeling, as always, bursting to talk to her petit soeur, to answer with immediateness to everything at all, and lamenting that no matter how lengthy they got, they always felt o so short after having been waiting for it so long.

She laughed at her harsh critiques of old Monsieur Gauvin, the ironically cranky charms teacher, and was heartened to see that Gabrielle was not having any major trouble adjusting, even if she was not there to help with it. The first year was not quite so rough, she remembered. They were all kids still, and the things that would cause troubles between them were not yet important. The majority of the senior students, thank the gods, were here in Hogwarts, and so the few that could bother her sister just for their dislike of her were far enough to be no trouble. No, Gabby was having a magnificent first year, even if she did miss Fleur quite a lot.

Gabrielle, having always been a lot more outgoing than her sister was making a lot of friends, which made Fleur slightly nervous in her behalf, but maybe this way she would have more people on her side when -if- she went to similar troubles than she had.

'Do not worry,' she had written, in answer to Fleur's rant about her feelings in a previous letter, a rather anonymous one in respect to the object of her affections, 'I can't think of any reason why someone would not love you. I know I do,' she had painted the notion with such innocence and matter of factness that her heart hurt for her sister, 'and as you have always said to me, the ones that matter don't mind, and the ones that mind don't matter. He must care, you did not scare him away even when you threw fireballs at him.'

Fleur laughed, embarrassed. She should not have told her sister that little misadventure, abridged she had. She hoped Gabby got no interesting ideas from that particular example. Maman would not be happy about that.

_ **Avec tout mon amour,** _

_ **Gabby.** _

_ **P.S: the way you wrote about the sounds your egg-clue make reminded** _

_ **me of the story of Sir Goeffroi and the secret treasure that grandmamma always read us.** _

Fleur Gapped at the piece of paper on her hand. She had not paid attention to the postscript before, but now she remembered the story Gabby was referencing. A story of a famous french knight that went in search of a hidden treasure that some wicked men had stolen and hidden on an island, and island guarded by…

"Gods bloody, fucking hell!" She shrieked in English, to her own surprise, and stood suddenly, grabbing her borrowed black and red winter coat to head to the Castle's library, not believing she had maybe gotten an answer to her most pressing problem in such a way.


	16. A Glimpse of Black

** _Chapter 16_ **

** _A Glimpse of Black_ **

* * *

I stood just under the threshold of the gargantuan main door of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and breathed in. The sharpness and cold of the humid January air filled my lungs, spiced liberally with the faint peaty smell that permeated the Highlands and the sweetness of roses and daffodils. Or at least that was the name Fleur gave to those triangular leafed, yellow flowers growing in the garden. It was invigorating.

Standing on the boundaries of the castle proper was a queer feeling. My eyes closed, I focused on what I could perceive, and in the darkness of my own lids, I could almost feel the tendrils of heat arcing from my body and seeking escape into the heather and the wilderness. At my back stood a veritable wall of warmth, as solid as the stones that fenced it, seeping into me, desperate for the feel of life and breath. Under those mundane happenings, if I paid careful attention, I could feel another wall. A wall that was as alive as I, that caressed my sides and extended to the stone, crackling, rebuking the advances of the warm air from inside. A cruel warden with strict instructions, but as I stood, interrupting the flow of that living curtain of lightning, it hugged itself to me, which made a door, of sorts. The jailed energy inside rushing to escape, thanking my accompliceship with a warm embrace.

"You look like you are enjoying yourself," said an amused voice, warming me more than any delinquent warm air ever could.

"You were right."

"Of course I was," she said, unfazed by my non sequitur, "You are going to 'ave to be more specific, though. It's not a unique 'appening after all."

"Magic," I said simply, keeping my eyes closed but not being able to suppress the tiniest of smiles as I saw her lift her brow in my mind's eye, that infinitely endearing gesture of both expectancy and defiance. I opened my eyes to find that exact expression -albeit with a different scarf than I imagined- in front of me, a step down from the main stairs so that, for once, I was looking down at her.

"It's beautiful."

I felt my face get warmer as I spoke, but as I was already flushed from the cold, I was fairly sure that she had not noticed. Her face, though, lit up both with the warmth of a smile and the ruddiness of delight in compliment.

Gods, how had I missed her. It's almost ridiculous, but after just about a week of only sharing a smile or two across the hall or the grounds I was desperate to just have more time with her.

"It certainement is," she nodded in agreement, eyes of swirling blue, bright and enchanting, "You, though, are certainly 'ard to find when you put your mind to it."

She stood, expectant, eyes wide and brows high, twirling leisurely side to side. Something that, I noticed, did amazing things for her- "I did disappear for a bit, didn't I?" I ruffled my hair, "Had a busy week, I guess."

She may have been unaware of my blush, but there is no way she failed to take notice of my roving eyes. She did not stop her beguiling rocking, though.

"So did I. It was… Dull, without you, mon petit."

"It sure was," my lips twisted upwards, jocund at the endearment. I gestured towards the grounds and she nodded, pulling the edge of her Gryffindor scarf higher. Huh, if this continued I would have to buy another whole set of livery, "What kept you? Something to do with the task?"

"Amongst other things, yes. I solved the clue. Or rather, my sister did."

"Your sister? Isn't she at Beauxbatons?"

"She is. But you know what they say, problems look different from afar."

"Quite. And the farthest from that infernal screeching hunk of rubbish the better."

Her laugh sang, "It was my… colourful description of the noise what clued 'er in. It reminded 'er of a story our Grand-mère use to tell us when I was small."

"Must have been one hell of a description."

She shrugged, "I was less than pleased with the damnable thing. I needed to rant to someone, I suppose."

"Oh, I feel you," she turned to look at me, lips quirked and brow raised teasingly, "It's just an expression," I defended, which only served to make me more embarrassed, and make her more amused.

"Of course it is," she continued walking with a pleased air. "You solved the clue too, I gather."

"Oh, yeah. Well, Cedric told me how, to be fair."

"That's the opposite of being fair, 'arry."

I shrugged, unrepentant, "And just as well, I'm not sure I would have gotten such an obscure clue. I mean, who would? Not like many people have heard mermaids sing outside water."

She stopped in her tracks, "mer- Oh, of course. I 'ad thought sirens, but the waters would be too cold for them 'ere, now that I think."

"Aren't they basically the same thing?"

"Ugh!" she stomped her foot and started to walk with long, brisk strides, "They are very different, 'Arry," she waved her hands in emphasis, "The fact that they are considered creatures does not mean all of them can be lumped together thoughtlessly. That's- that's- wrong! And- disrespectful!"

"Whoa, there," I said, slowing my pace, in hopes she would too slow down from her abrupt spurt of Olympic walk, else I would have to break into a trot to keep up, "I meant nothing by it, Fleur. I mostly meant for the Task, it would not matter if it were one or the other."

She looked at me, and then away, her pace relaxing from the passionate march from moments before.

The gravel under our feet, wet with melted snow, crunched under our feet as we walked In silence towards the carriages that went to Hogsmeade.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while, and I knew she was. From the moment she fell silent and started fiddling with the hem of her coat I knew she regretted her words. Or at least the way in which she spoke them.

I remembered in that moment the nervous fidgeting of the first time that she had apologized to me and felt a sudden and overwhelming surge of tenderness

Slowly, carefully, I took one of her hands in both of mine, feeling the heat of it as if I was holding a particularly warm cup of tea.

She stopped walking and looked at her hand in mine with wide eyes.

"It's all right. I know it was not me you were upset with, not really."

Her eyes turned towards mine still wide, and softened after a second, her whole demeanour relaxing, and answered with a wavering smile.

I went to drop her hand, but she squeezed mine and, still holding it, resumed her walk, throwing me a sidelong smile that was considerably surer than the previous.

"You can talk to me about it though, if you'd like."

She looked at me for a second and shook her head.

"Non. Not 'ere, at least, and not like this. Though… Thank you. Thank you mon 'Arry,'' She squeezed my hand and with a burst of liveliness that was both comforting and troubling, she pulled me towards the closest, luckily unoccupied, carriage.

"You know, petal, I think I know just the thing to cheer you up."

She groaned, as she always did when I called her any flower related name. Unfortunately for her, that groan was one adorable sound.

The warmth of the carriage received us and our smiles, inviting more so for the privacy it offered than for the comfort.

* * *

All right, maybe the suggestive comment became a bit too bold for me after we got into the dark, private and cosy interior of the carriage, our knees brushing together with every bump and every little move, the heat of her body like a tiny furnace, making me wonder how in hell can she be so affected by the cold and making me sweat some, for several different reasons.

There was little conversation for most of the way, we had in all fairness been away from each other for little more than a week, and a pretty uneventful one at that. We could talk about the Tournament, I suppose, but it's not something that we tended to talk about outside of sheer necessity. I guess we are too competitive for that.

Besides, the furtive glances and fleeting touches were enough to occupy my whole attention. Something had changed between us. What, I could not say. Nor am I sure I'd even want to.

Eyes wander and take the mind for a ride. Fingers clutch into the imagined warmth of a muse that is as close as she is far.

I know she has noticed. She can't not have. She's too sharp to let something like that pass without notice, and that sharpness, that quickness of wit that I so enjoy were the cause of my worries.

She is sure to be disgusted, I'd think. What frail friendship I had managed to build would go up in flames -something that almost got a way to literal meaning that one time in her room- and I'd be alone again.

All right, I may have been a tad sensitive on the matter of friendship because of Ron, but still, I'd seen the loathing in those clear eyes every time some lust-addled bastard came to sweet-talk her, that wrinkle at the top of her nose that emerged at the sight of an inbound boy, bouncing on his feet and full of himself.

My fists tightened at the thought, clutching the fabric of my outer robe with a prejudice it didn't merit.

A touch. The mere graze of her leg against mine was enough to dispel the jealous thoughts and relax my offended appendages.

I looked at her glittering eyes, bright even in the dim of the carriage, and in the little crinkles on the corners of them I found a reassurance that was not mine to take.

"So," she said, "where are we going? Besides the obvious, of course."

"I'm not quite sure," I ruffled my head again, trying to put my ideas back in some semblance of order, "I need to buy a couple of things for my solution to the task. You see, I-"

Her finger touched my lips and I almost cracked my head open on the roof of the carriage, she giggled and my lips tingled.

"That's enough, Monsieur. You wouldn't want to reveal your plan to me, would you? How could I win another chocolat 'aul fairly if you go spilling your secrets?"

I smiled against her finger and I could feel her arm flinch back but it ultimately remained in place.

"So, are we doing this again then? The bet?" her neck flushed rosy when I spoke, my lips moving slightly against her finger. Her hand fell to her lap quickly at that.

"Oui," her coloured face rose teasingly, "I would not deprive you of a chance to gift me sweets."

"Your generosity is as boundless as your bea- *coffs* well, it knows no bounds."

She looked at me with such a softness on her gaze that I wanted to jump her. I wanted to jump away from her. I wanted to run my fingers under her cap and dip them into the liquid gold of her hair.

On that very moment, the carriage stopped. The sharpness of the stop jolted me from what were entirely inappropriate thoughts, and I hurriedly vacated the vehicle, making use of what little control over myself I still possessed.

I stood at the door ready to help her in the most gentlemanly manner possible. She poked her face out, expression unreadable, and extended a delicately shaped hand towards me.

I helped her down.

She did not let go.

We walked for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the calm of Hogsmeade outside visiting days. Chilly winds lifted the powdery snow that collected on the edges of the road, chilling my rushing blood, chimneys puffed happily into the ice blue sky.

"Are we going somewhere particular?" Fleur asked, her gaze going from one storefront to the next.

"I think. I don't really know where to buy the things I need, but the jewellery shop would be a good place to start."

She glanced quickly at me and then fixed her face on the road, "I thought you were 'ere for the task."

"We are. Why else would I go to a jeweller?"

"I don't know. A present, maybe," her grip on my hand tightened, "I noticed your friend likes big earrings."

"Hermione? She doesn't wear-"

"Katherine."

"Oh," The air lost some of its chill all of a sudden, "I guess she does."

Fleur's hand tightened even more, and the heat that came from it was startling. Nice going, Potter. I had to give it to Katie, it appears she actually knew what she was doing.

"It's a shame I'm not getting earrings then, isn't it?"

She turned to face me, the frown that had pulled at her features released its hold, but it did not abate entirely. The fire behind her eyes did not lessen.

"Oui. A crying shame," she said and leaned against my arm.

* * *

Aelfwine and Co. was an orderly and bright place, filled with small cabinets containing any amount of shiny trinkets in varying shades of gold and silver and stones of any hue you could care for. A person stood behind the counter that I assumed to be Mr Aelfwine. The name certainly fit him. Slim to the point of looking unhealthy and with grey eyes that were way bigger than his face merited, he stood with a dignified air looking straight at me.

I exchanged a glance with Fleur, and shrugging, she set about perusing the exhibition.

"Er, good day, Mr Aelfwine. I was hoping you could help me with something."

He looked at me, impassive, and let his gaze slide to Fleur where she stood tuning her fingers over some piece of jewellery.

"White gold would suit her. However, she doesn't seem overly fond of adornments."

"What? Oh! No, that's not- I mean- Ahem, I need to procure the items on this list. I didn't really know where to look, but I thought maybe you could point me in the right direction," I gave him the list, my face warmer than usual.

He checked it and his eyebrows rose.

"This is…quite an unusual set of items, young man."

"I am aware," I said a bit miffed, "kind of the reason I don't know where to get them."

His eyes dropped once more to the piece of parchment and he hummed, "I could indeed get you most of it. It would take time, mind, and it would not be cheap. Were I not aware of your celebrity, I would have said no outright."

My opinion of Mr Aelfwine kept dropping by the second

"Could you make an estimate? Both time and price."

With a flick of his wrist a quill was in his hand, and he scribbled in my list. While looking straight in my eyes he gave it back.

I couldn't help but google at it.

"That… that is quite a bit of gold."

"I could say the same to you, Mr Potter, and that is not even taking into account the very particular stones you ask for. Those are certainly not going to be easy to procure."

"I would have to pay on collect."

His lips tightened, "that is a substantial amount to risk, I'm sure you would understand."

"Believe me, sir, it's a life and death situation for me. The risk you take is no bigger than the one I take by trusting you."

He glanced back sharply towards Fleur and his already pale face lightened a shade more, his eyes widening substantially before locking into mine again.

"I can pay you about a third of the price upfront," I am pants at haggling

He nodded slowly, his eyes glancing from me to Fleur nervously, "I-that would be agreeable. Yes, that would do."

I put my whole purse on the counter and waited for him to weigh it and give me a ticket. Fleur noticed the exchange and started towards the door.

"For what is worth, Mr Potter. I am sorry about your situation."

That was unexpected. "I- Thank you."

He looked towards the store's entrance where Fleur stood silhouetted against the dark wood

"It's inconceivable that such things are allowed to happen anymore," his lips tightened and he turned back to me, "Good day, Mr Potter, And best of lucks."

* * *

"That Mr Aelfwine, is quite the strange fellow," I said as we walked in search of a place that might offer refuge and warmth.

"'ow so? He seemed normal enough."

"Don't know… he got really nervous towards the end. Hope he's as good as his word, I left all my money with him. I am going to have to sneak to Gringotts soon, he gave me a two weeks estimate for procuring the… things."

"What in 'eavens did you buy?

I looked at her, beautifully shaped eyes open in surprised curiosity, head cocked to the side, a few locks, curled by the stringent embrace of her thick winter cap, which they had managed to escape floated in ringlets around her face. The jeweller was right. She was not wearing a single adornment, but oh how very lovely did the shining gold look against her pearly skin.

I tried not to, I really did. But such an adorable expression made it impossible, and I felt my lips tremble into a big loopy grin.

"Hoops."

"Excuse moi?"

"Earrings. Lots of them. Big, gold hoops with plenty of diamonds. Oh! and garnets, beautiful, honey-coloured garnets."

I stepped back, having absolutely predicted her immediate abuse of my shoulder and cackled at her face, clearly fighting herself to make a serious expression, failed miserably and gave way to her own mirth.

"Tu es impossible," she huffed.

I bumped her shoulder with mine softly as she pouted, her arms crossed mockingly.

"Maybe, my aunt certainly thought so."

"'Arry I didn't-"

"I know," I interrupted. I remembered suddenly why it was that I did not like to talk about my home and cursed myself for a loose tongue.

"It's okay, though. For all your quirks, I still like you."

I smiled like a loon at that

"Really? Because I-"

Woof!

We jumped, the resounding bark shaking us from our relaxed banter. A huge dog was running towards us from a dark alley between two stores, paws splattering rhythmically in the murky ground.

My eyes must have looked about the same size as the rim on my glasses as I stood quite still, not knowing if I was truly seeing him here. I had the faintest and most disturbing déjà-vu of the few times I saw the 'grim' last year, and thought with an uneasy shiver that seeing it spelt death.

The massive shaggy mass rounded up on us, barking madly and bouncing circles around us. Fleur fumbled in her coat with one hand while she clung to me with the other, letting a fluid tirade of French that I was quite certain was not flattering at all.

I was frozen to my feet.

A familiar word in between the flow of profanities and the dog crashed mid-jump into a solid wall of air. A disconcertingly human huff and a whine saw the dog running away towards the place he had come from. When it was a few dozen meters from us it stopped for a moment and looked back at me with sharp grey eyes before turning back and fleeing.

"Where did zat dog even-"

"Wait," I whispered, "Wait!" I shouted. My legs decided to cooperate at that moment and I took off after it, running like my life depended on it. I got to the corner where it had disappeared with barely enough time to see the back tail turn another corner.

I picked up my pace.

The winter coat was dragging me down, the wet ground slippery and treacherous. My socks were getting wetter and wetter with each step, my body growing uncomfortably warm.

"'Arry, wait!"

I turned briefly to see Fleur tailing me, her long hair swinging to and fro wildly behind her.

I cursed loudly and colourfully, and for one moment I thought to stop, to let Sirius go and try and make up an excuse for Fleur. What the fuck was I going to say? And what the fuck was my very much outlawed godfather doing here? So I kept running, following the fleeting glimpses of black. I could hear the splat of her steps as she called to me while we twisted and turned around the scattered winding alleys around the part of Hogsmeade that people actually lived in.

Just a couple houses more, and the landscape quickly opened into a green plain. Sirius shot though the firm grounds faster than I could ever hope to and after a few dozen meters, disappeared. I stopped, stomped and cursed again, hearing what was likely quite close to a real-time translation behind me. It carried the same sentiment, at the very least, if a bit more wheezingly.

Fleur caught up to me and doubled over, a cloud of mist coming out of her mouth as she tried to get her breath back. Thoughts came hurried and unbidden to me of Sirius getting caught by someone while he tried to sneak up looking for me, it had been a near thing last year and now there were a lot more people wandering around the castle and the grounds, it was just a matter of time before he slipped. I could not allow him to take such a risk.

I looked at the absolutely red-faced girl panting next to me, fuming almost literally in the cold. I would have to take the risk myself, I thought as my heart clenched. I made my choice.

"What the diable was that?" she managed to breath out, "Why did you chase that dog?"

I mouthed, trying to come up with something that didn't sound half as insane as 'Oh, that was only my convicted murderer of a godfather. I wanted to visit with him.'

"'Arry!"

I grabbed her shoulders and looked at her intently, trying to convey with my eyes what I could not with my voice. Her hair brushed against my fingers and I realized belatedly that she had lost her hat in the chase.

"Trust me. I can't explain right now, please."

She looked at my face, searching for something, biting her lip, and nodded slowly.

With only that as reassurance I dashed towards the wilder and colourful heather where Sirius had -only metaphorically, I hoped- vanished.

"Padfoot!" I called, only barely having the presence of mind to not scream his name. "Padfoot, come out!"

My foot slipped and I fell forward, hitting the ground and falling, small branches wiping all around me and small stones hitting and scraping me as I rolled. I kneeled, groaning and coughing as I tried to get my wind back, half walking half crawling towards the slope, if only so that I could answer the frantic calls of Fleur before she fell right after me.

"I'm okay," I managed to let out feebly, "there is a fall, be- *coff* be careful."

What looked like a plain for hundreds of meters ahead actually had a pretty sudden drop about my own height, the resulting wall looking distinctly rocky, if moss covered. Fleur leaned over the edge and looked down. I tried to smile reassuringly but the effect was not likely very convincing as I'm sure I had a growing lump and my cracked glasses refused to remain straight on my face.

A very much human whine drew my eyes downwards and there, behind a mossy, brambly sheet of short vegetation I could see the yellow reflection of animal eyes in the dark. Fleur jumped down, landing graceful and light next to me.

As soon as her feet hit the floor, a menacing rumbling replaced the whines. Fleur was quicker this time and pointed her wand directly at the sound.

I put my hand over hers and we shared a look. Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her wand. I kept her hand in mine so that she did not raise her wand again, or so I said to myself.

"It's okay," I said to her, to Sirius, to myself. "It's okay, Padfoot. She's with me, come out."

The great body shifted where he was hiding, alternatively whining and growling in a very articulate series of vocalisations.

"Come on Padfoot, I trust her."

More reluctant sounds, ended with a very huff like bark.

I could feel Fleur shaking slightly, which worried me until I saw her face and realized she was trying not to laugh.

What a sorry look I must be, soggy and muddy, scrapped and bumped talking to a dog that seemed to be arguing back with cries and barks.

"Oh, laugh it up, will you." I dropped her hand, only to have her snug closer and lean her head against mine, looking towards the shifty eyes in the dark.

"I did not know you 'ad an escaped pet dog, Mon petit."

This caused a loud bark that sounded very much like laughter from Sirius.

"I guess that's one way of putting it." I sighed, "are you gonna come out, or are you going to keep being so stubborn about it."

The answering whine was eloquent enough.

"'e doesn't seem to want to come back. Poor boy, did 'arry not walk you enough?"

Oh god. I can't believe Fleur is baby talking Sirius. This needed to stop. I slipped away from her, urging her to stay back with my eyes and approached the shrubby curtain, kneeling in front of it, my face close enough that I could feel the warm and frowsty dog breath on my cheeks.

"Sirius," I whispered, "I know what you are thinking, she's a foreigner and you don't know her, it's dangerous. But I can assure you, she will understand. If you have any trust in me then trust her too."

He made a noncommittal sound and his snout pushed through the leaves presenting me with a huge, sniffing nose.

"I don't even know what that means."

With little warning he pushed out of wherever he was hiding and swerved skilfully around me, heading straight for Fleur. She stiffened and her eyes widened a tad as he neared, but to my relief, no spells were thrown.

He walked around her sniffing exploratorily. Fleur didn't seem really happy at the attention but she bore it. Something made Sirius sneeze explosively a couple of times, but his subsequent happy barks and tail wagging must have meant that he found whatever he was sniffing for.

A couple bounces and he was through the shrub again. Fleur, for her part, swallowed hard and kept her distance.

"You really don't like dogs, do you?"

She shook her head, "it's not that. Dogs don't like me. They get really aggressive around me."

Sirius poked his head out, his pointy ears perked, and barked, quickly disappearing into the leafy depths.

Poking my head in turn I could see that the small bush was covering an opening in the rock that sloped gently downward until it was too dark to see anything else.

"There's a cave," I said, "he wants us to follow."

"You are joking, surely."

I sighed and closed my eyes. "This… this is something that is really important for me, Fleur, but it's something really dangerous too. I trust you. I trust you enough to share this with you, but I can't ask you to keep such a secret."

She looked at me, her head cocked, her gaze piercing. Under any other circumstance, such level of attention would have made me squirm.

She nodded, eyes focused, "let's go then."

"Are you sure about this?"

"You may not be the gallant knight that outthinks trolls, Mon petit, but I am under no illusions, you are far from normal. And I trust you too, you've earned that. I'll go with you."

I sighed, "I have to do it. I can't tell you how important this is for me, but the weight I will be putting on you… I- I have no right to do-"

She put her fingers to my lips again, the light pressure quite enough to silence me.

I'm pretty sure my eyes were even wider now than when I had first spotted Sirius, and my breathing was coming short. Too short.

"I said I'd go," she said firmly, her tone belied by her soft kaleidoscope eyes, "if the weight you carry is so great, then you should not carry it alone."

"But-"

"Too late, I 'ave made up my mind and that's that. You took a stupid risk before for me, did you not? Let me do the same for you. Will you?"

I screwed my eyes shut, for I knew that It would take but a glance at the slumped arches of her barely there eyebrows to make my eyes swim.

I nodded sharply, which made her finger unexpectedly poke the tip on my nose and prompted nervous laughter from both of us.

Her hand fell onto my shoulder, it's warmth cutting the ravenous cold of the sharp winds. With a deep breath and a look of gratefulness that tried to express everything I could not otherwise, I marched towards the curtained cave and pulled the green doors to the side.

Fleur's composed face wavered for a moment as she gazed into the dark, but with a purposeful gesture, she straightened and lighted her wand.

A raised, challenging eyebrow made my lips quirk and then, with a whispered Lumos, my wand was lit too. and we went into the dark.

* * *

The cave's wall reflected the magic fueled light, distorting the already lumpy and slippery ground and making the gentle slope feel a lot more challenging than it should have been. It was also frigid to the point where my fingers were starting to hurt, a chilly breeze moving out of the tunnel and then back in, as if the very stone were breathing around us.

It took only a few dozen steps until we got to a place where the walls opened into a bubble the size of a small room, even if the tunnel probably went on, for the breeze had not stopped. A small pile of fabric resembling a nest was laying near the wall, a pile of newspapers next to it, but by far the most eye-catching detail of the 'room' was the five hundred kilos of feathered menace that lay paws crossed right in the middle of the way.

The bright yellow eyes of Buckbeak, shining eerily in the dim light, fixed to mine, and I could swear I saw recognition in his eyes before his head bowed in a small gesture. Buckbeak shifted his eyes then to Fleur's, whose mouth kept moving trying to form words, and his eyes looked about as surprised as hers. The beast made a recoiling motion and his feathers ruffled, his head then extended forwards as he sniffed the stagnant air.

"Is that a-"

"Do not move, Fleur. Let him think."

The longest few seconds passed while Buckbeak made up his mind about Fleur, my muscles were taut and ready to pull her away should the need arise.

A sharp bird's cry reverberated through the cave wall's and Buckbeak's head lowered in a reverence that almost made me slump in relief.

Fleur still looked peaked, and her sharp features looked more menacing under the flickering light than I had ever seen them before. "It's okay," I said, "It's okay. He likes you." She turned towards me with a facefull of incredulity and I barked a laugh. Now I knew how Hagrid felt.

From behind the feathered mass surged a head of black, with such dishevelled hair that were it not for the colour you'd think it was a ruffled spot on Buckbeak's back. "Well," Sirius said, as he came around Buckbeak, "If little Bucky here thinks she's okay, she's fine in my book."

I smiled and surged forward, "Sirius!"

He smelled terrible. A mix of animal odours and damp, blood and musk, and his hair was greasy where it touched my face, but I could not have been happier as I hugged my godfather for the first time in nearly a year. He patted my back, "How are you, kiddo?"

"Better now that you are here. No, wait," I said as I stepped back, "What the fuck are you doing here Sirius. Are you crazy? Delirious? The whole town is crawling with people and ministry officials and foreigners, and that's without saying anything about the castle."

His head cocked towards the pile of newspapers near what I had to identify now as an improvised dog bed, my heart clenching at the thought. "I could not very well stay away after all that is happening here this year, could I? The debacle at the world cup, then the tournament… no. I had to get here."

Fleur shifted her feet, drawing our attention back to her. She looked between Sirius and me, clearly asking for an explanation of some kind.

"So, Harry, are you gonna introduce us or am I gonna have to do the honours?" His face shifted from the apprehensive expression it had been wearing to a charming smirk that would have been handsome had he not been covered in filth and generally looking like an- a starving prisoner. My heart clenched painfully again, and I started to think that this was going to become a common occurrence near him. The speed at which his expression shifted was, too, a bit troubling.

"Ah, yes," I shook myself from my thoughts, "Fleur, this- ahem, this is my godfather," I gestured to Sirius who bowed deeply in a courtly way, "Sirius, this is Fleur. She's my- my friend." Fleur nodded, though by her face this left her with even more doubts than before.

"And the French Champion, unless my memory fails me. Though I don't see how it could, in this case." Fleur stiffened, and Sirius laughed, his eyes shifting from her to me before he shook his head, a cryptic smile on his face. "I would offer you a seat, but the situation is a bit tight in this household." He said and took a seat on the ground, leaning back against Buckbeak's side.

I looked at Fleur, but she did not seem to show any sign of recognition. I sighed, this could either prove to be a good thing or not. I put a hand on her shoulder and sat in front of Sirius, she followed suit. A shiver shook her as soon as her bottom touched the cold stone and she nuzzled to my side, her face tinting ever so slightly even as head tilted up proudly.

'You don't look surprised, lass."

Her nose scrunched, "Now that you mention it, monsieur, I was expecting a black dog."

Sirius cackled and kept laughing until he could not make any sound. "Oh my, I haven't laughed like that in… I think I can't even remember." He said as he dried his eyes. He then looked at me, grey eyes questioning. I gulped. I nodded. His eyes shined with an unidentifiable emotion. "Well, Miss, you are seeing the black dog," he snickered, "In more than one meaning. But that is not what I meant before. I suppose you can get a pass at not recognizing my celebrity, seeing as you are French. My name is Sirius Orion Black, tried and convicted for the murder of twelve muggles and a wizarding war hero, at your service." he bowed her head at the end. His voice got progressively darker as the sentence moved forwards, and then he suddenly perked up, his hair bouncing, "You need to add prison break to the list of charges now! Nice."

Fleur looked at me, obvious confusion in her eyes, the shifty attitude of Sirius not lending weight to most of what he said. I nodded, and her porcelain skin became even closer to what it was compared to.

"It was-" I exhaled, "It was the day my parents died. They had been protected under a powerful charm, under the word of one of their closest friends, but they were betrayed, and it led to their- to- well… You know what happened." I sighed.

Sirius, seeing that I was having trouble with recounting a story that was so entwined to me took the lead.

"It was one of our closest friends, the betrayer, the rat. I could not believe it, but as I stood in front of the ruined house I knew it had to be so. It was a wreck. The roof had collapsed and almost all of the structure had been crushed under it. Little more than a pile of rubble. The only thing that managed to make me move was Harry crying. I had heard that cry so many times before… it just pushed me to action. Harry was in his crib, bawling, and Lily- oh gods, Lily. That was the only room in the house that was intact. I had twelve years to think what it was that she did, but It still escapes me." He pinched his nose, his face pained by remembrance, and a warm, dainty hand found itself in mine. I gave Fleur a watery, thankful smile.

"I don't know how much time passed. I honestly can't remember. I just remember lulling Harry to sleep, and then the sound of my bike. I wonder what became of that bike. I hope that Hagrid still has it ." His eyes got lost in the middle distance, his hand leisurely playing with his goatee. "Anyway," he said as he shook himself off, "Hagrid got there sometime later on my bike. I was still in shock. He thought it would be a good idea if someone else had Harry for a bit, until I was good enough to know which way to put my shoes on again. I think I agreed… In truth, little Harry was the only thing keeping me grounded at that moment, and as soon as Hagrid was away I only had rage in my mind."

He gave a deep sigh that seemed to deflate him, an effect exacerbated by the shallowness of his features. Fleur was sitting straight as could be, her eyes focused on Sirius, her hand posed over mine in between us.

Sirius took a noisy, despondent breath, his eyes still focused on something that was not here.

"It was easy to track him, the traitor. We had been as close as family before, and in times of war, we made sure we could always find the others. He did not even try to reason, he knew there was no space for that, not after what he did. He did not stand a chance against me, and he knew that too." Sirius waved his arms around, too far into memory to even notice whom he was speaking to.

"I remember his face paling as he caught sight of me, I can still count the freckles on his face, even today, I can see his shifty eyes growing wide, his chin wobbling. I was savouring his fear. He started to scream then, I could not make up the words, I was too focused. He drew his wand, but mine was in my hand already. I shot first. He dropped to the floor and shot back, I just laughed, the spell was way too wide to hope and hit me." He shook his head despondently "I was an arrogant, wrathful idiot. He knew he could not take me, the spell was not aimed at me, it hit something behind me that caused an explosion. I was blasted off my feet."

He looked towards the cave's roof, thoughtful "I think I may have passed out for a few moments, but that whole day is such a blur that I cannot be sure. What I do remember was waking up with a severed finger inches from my face. It had the ring Peter always wore and I just started to laugh. I could not stop, I thought I was gonna asphyxiate, the bastard was next to useless with a wand, but he was clever, I forgot that for a moment and paid for it. There were screams everywhere, dust and noise. I think I was hit by a stunner. Next thing I know, I'm in Azkaban. It took me a while to even learn what were the charges against me. Pettigrew's explosion had killed twelve muggles, and he did not only manage to pin all of them on me, he also framed me for his own death."

Sirius fell silent then, his gaze still fixed on the roof, his face carrying such an expression of hopelessness that the very air seemed to chill under it, his eyes withering under the freezing rains of Mnemosyne.

Fleur looked at me with her charming wide eyes, coaxing, confused, worried. When had I learned to read those swirling eyes so well?

I averted my eyes as Buckbeak cried, his beak nuzzling Sirius on his side and bringing him back to the present, afraid of what else would I be able to read there, of what she would read in mine. I squeezed her hand, nevertheless, and the delicate pressure that answered alleviated some of the pressure that came from darker places in my life, in my heart.

I shut my eyes again, holding back a wave of emotion again, something that seemed to be happening way too much today. Her hand squeezed tighter, and I opened my eyes again.

Despite the cold of the air, of the cave, of the past, her warmth reached me through the frigid space between us, even as she shivered. I leaned closer to her hoping, maybe presumptuously, that my own warmth would be as comforting to her as hers was to me.

" 'Arry... this-"

"I know what it sounds like, believe me, but it's all true," I answered her unspoken question, "I saw Pettigrew last year. That's when I met Sirius. Turns out he had disguised as the pet of Ron's family for all of those years."

"The pet of... what?"

"He is an animagus, you pretty thing. We all were. James, Peter and me. That is how he managed to hide, and how I managed to esc-" he shut his mouth. "Hmmm, maybe that one stays with me. Would not want them to fortify the security now, do we." He winked, his face turning back into what I would have described as a dashing pirate. Dirty, thin, a bit sickly, but charming and handsome.

Fleur chortled, a most peculiar sound coming from her, and promptly covered her mouth with a hand, her hilarity being forced out through giggles. "So," she said, "That black dog, it was you?"

As if on command, Sirius' hair lengthened as he hunched over, and a couple seconds later, his most charming side was on display, tail wagging and tongue lolling under perky, fluffy ears.

"Woof," he exclaimed smartly. This only renewed Fleur's giggling.

"At least that explains why you were so well behaved before," Fleur said, "I 'ad never met a dog that did not utterly hate me before. I was glad that they don't allow dogs 'ere at 'Ogwarts. It became a problem for me at Beauxbatons more than once."

With the same flurry as before, Sirius regained his roguish escapee appearance.

"I do have to say, miss, you have a strange... I don't even know if calling it smell is the right word, but there is something about you that really peaks my nose when I am in my dog shape."

"Oh?" Fleur's expression was measured, and now it was my turn to snicker as Sirius tried to put his foot out of his mouth.

"Yes, well, what I mean is something like- like- like cinnamon! It's lovely and all, but put your nose too close to it and it will stop being pleasant."

"So you say that dogs don't like me because of my smell?"

"I-, What I meant is, it can hurt if it gets up your nose. I suppose the sensitive dog snout amplifies that, I certainly cannot feel it otherwise, I mean, I can't speak for all dogs out there, my perspective changes very little when I change shapes, so I don't know what a dog actually thinks, but it is a possibility."

Fleur could try and feign a serious expression, but that small tremble at the corner of her mouth always gave her away.

She turned then to me, and her face lost a good part of the amusement that the small reprieve of Sirius' demonstration and theories had brought. "So this was your secret, mon petit? You are 'arbouring a known criminal?"

"When you put it like that..." Sirius and I exchanged a glance, "But I prefer to say that I am looking over the last piece of family I have left." I then tried to look at my godfather with the utmost disappointment I could muster, if only to make him feel a small amount of the maelstrom of bullshite that I had felt in the last twenty minutes, "Or I am trying, at least, since it seems like he enjoys taking unnecessary risks."

"I had to come!"

"You should be in the Caribbean, or something, Sirius, not here, sleeping in a damp cave and hoping no one stumbles into it."

"How could I not come after I saw what had happened? This is not children's play Harry, make no mistake, this is not an accident. Someone entered you into the tournament deliberately, and with some specific purpose, and we don't know why. I will not be a stupid arse hothead again, I can promise you that, but I cannot in good consciousness be sitting by a tree's shadow sipping daikyries while you are here with a Damocles sword over your head."

How in hells am I supposed to refute any of that. I looked at Fleur's hand on my knee and I could not help but realize that in all the whirlwind I had forgotten, or at least ignored, some things. I sighed, my shoulders slumping under the realization that despite all the good, the end was shaping up to be as messy as those of years before. The only difference is that now my focus was split enough that I could not see the build-up.

"Look, Harry, I promise to be safe. I will just be close by if anything happens. Dumbledore knows I'm here, and Remus comes by with food and clothes as much as he can. I just took a small risk as I saw you were almost alone. I thought I could scare the pretty bird off and get you here."

"Professor Lupin is here too?" I perked up and then, under Sirius's eyes, I got a bit embarrassed. I had not realized how much I had missed Lupin.

"What a strange thing to hear someone say 'professor Lupin', heh," he shook his head. "He has been around, but after what happened last year, and the papers making a mess of it, he can show his face around here about as much as me. Idiots, the lot of them. He's had to stay with me in this cave a couple of times, for they would not have him at any inn. Not even Rosmerta!" he was starting to build himself up into a proper rage, and he realized it, so he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Well, at least she was apologetic about it. Those that are not against him for one reason or another are too scared of retribution by the Malfoys to think about taking him in.

Fleur, again, looked confused.

"It's a long story, Fleur. Lupin is my old Defence teacher, and last year there was a… situation," Sirius snorted, "in-between all that, I learned that Sirius was my godfather and my friends rat a disguised murderer, and then had to do some… bending of certain rules, to free Sirius." Buckbeak clicked his beak. "Oh! and Buckbeak too."

"A very contrite way to say that he saved my life," interjected Sirius, "You must have gotten that humbleness from Lily. Gods know you did not get it from James. Make no mistake, little lady, were it not for Harry here I would be worse than dead."

"I do not doubt that." I didn't even try to brave the look she had thrown my way, I merely smiled awkwardly and mumbled something unintelligible even to myself.

"In any case, I am sure it's starting to get late for you two, so you should get going. What I wanted to say is be careful, Harry, be mindful of the people around you and keep a clear mind. Don't make the same mistakes I did. And do not worry about me, I'll be fine. This is a step up from Azkaban, and believe it or not Remus and Buckbeak are better company than the one I had there."

I laughed as we stood up, clutching to each other a bit to compensate for numbed limbs. I stepped forwards and gave a big hug to him again, fighting the conflictive feeling I had about having him here.

"Take care, Sirius."

"Yeah," He said as he let go, "you too, kid."

With as little thought as I could, I stepped back brushing against Fleur, my heart clenching at the sad smile on Sirius's face.

"Miss Delacour," He called just as we turned to face the outward tunnel.

"Oui?"

"I am glad I met you."

His tone was strange, both heartfelt and teasing at the same time, and it's meaning escaped me. Fleur seemed to be quicker than me this time though, for her face coloured lightly as she rose her chin and faced Sirius, her prideful posture doing things to my composure, as it had started to happen for a while now.

"I am glad I met you too, Monsieur. I 'ope we see each other again."

And with a smile, we ascended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note
> 
> Peeks over the corner to gauge the mood "Hello there, what's popping?" He says, hoping no one notices it's been like five months.
> 
> I did not break the six months mark again, at least, and for that you have to thank the Flowerpot Server -an invite for it can be found further on- in general, for being so supportive and praising my story so much that I could not help but feel more confident in my story (Despite the mountain of mistakes that still await correction in the previous chapters.) And the FFN author 'Charlennette' in particular, whose beautiful prose renewed my inspiration for my own writing, and for whose birthday this chapter was churned out at what is -for me- top speed. A big shout out to her, go read her stories, I can guarantee you'll like them if you like mine.
> 
> Likewise, all the recognition to Raphael the Older Nameless and Honorverse fan for their selfless efforts in making this story as legible and good as it is. Beta readers are life. I can also highly recommend Honerversefan stories, for even if they are quite different from mine, they are awesome. A lot of epic style prose and mythology bits thrown in.
> 
> Lets go over some reviews,
> 
> Marauders Apprentice I'm glad I managed to make a door for you into this ship. There are a lot of beautiful stories out there.
> 
> themaestro1: can't say for sure how long this story will be, but A Court of Flowers is set in fourth year, so you can extrapolate from what is already out. As I have said several times before, I don't really have a plan. I will continue the story further away from year four, but that will likely be another book.
> 
> Daggerxxx: I understand your concerns, but teenagers are awkward, inexperience and bound to other people's expectations way more than adults, so I do not think their lack of communication is strange. The tournament should be taken seriously, after all. Nevertheless, this chapter likely has assuaged your concerns on the matter. They may be terrible dancers, but they sure like to tip toe, eh?
> 
> ThR1992: Primero que nada, gracias por tus halagos. Me alegra que te agrade la personificacion que le he dado a Fleur, aunque tengo que diferir contigo en el hecho de que no es arrogante, si lo es, al menos a mis ojos, pero hay una diferencia entre la arrogancia que nace de la confianza en las abilidades propias y la arrogancia que nace de los comentarios de sicofantes. Tal vez es esa la diferencia que vez, y que hacen una de una personalidad arrogante algo mas agraciado.
> 
> Loveandpower: I think you read too much into that. I needed someone from the server to help me get that reference.
> 
> bdwilliams3: That is the highest praise you can give me, thank you.
> 
> PanderII: To be honest, I need to beta the whole thing lol. Thank you for you interactions, and I hope this chapter proved to be better from a technical point of view.
> 
> Valirys Reinhald: I love you, my dude.
> 
> Come, join us at the Harry/Fleur Discord Server, I can guarantee you'll enjoy the experience. We have a lot of writers, beta readers on hand for any writer that needs them, fan art spaces and the best collection of prompts I have seen for the ship. Everyone is welcome, even if you don't feel like throwing in to write a story. It's a very active place, though, and if you like, you can always interact there with me or many other of the authors that are active.
> 
> Invite to the Discord Server: discord.gg/k8ZxUjE

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my fellow readers, this is the first time i try to put into words one of the stories, or more like it, one of the scenes that pop into my mind from time to time. So be kind.
> 
> This is a Harry/Fleur story starting on fourth year on the day that the delegations of the other schools get to Hogwarts. The focus of the story is going to be on the interactions between theese two and on the adventure side of it that comes with the Tournament.
> 
> Harry may be slightly out of character, as may be some of the supporting characters, but i do try to not turn them into different people than they are supposed to be. Harry's personality may seem a bit different because i am writing in first person (consider yourself warned) and as so we will have access to a lot of things that happen inside of the fairly introverted Harry's mind that we dont see in Canon.
> 
> Okay, so more warnings: first, this is an experiment on my part, so there are lots of things that are undecided for the plot. Second, english is not my mother tongue so any corrections you'd like to make are welcome. Third, i am trying to get in the habit of writing daily but i am in no ways an experienced writer, so please be patient.
> 
> Also, the first interaction between Harry and Fleur is taken from a post from Reddit by u/TheDivineDemon


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